Faith and Duty: The Puppet Dance
by Slaashyish
Summary: The Inquisition may have undeniable power in the Imperium, but for fledgeling inquisitor Hyara, it looks like it might be more than she can handle, and this is just her first mission... Flamers WILL be Karamazoved. Temporary Hiatus While I Get Me Sorted
1. Prologue

_This story is set in the 40k Universe of the Warhammer games, I don't own the world, or the ranks/jobs/titles/equipment etc but the characters are fully my own. If there's anything too gruesome/violent I will put a warning at the beginning of the relevant chapter._

In the shuttle's crew compartment, Inquisitor Draco Silver gazed at the pale girl before him; as an Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor, he'd seen more mutants than he could remember, and had destroyed most of them. This girl wasn't just a mutant though, she was a Psyker. He knew that with certainty, also certain was that she wasn't merely pale from shock. He looked away from her to his friend and bodyguard, wondering if Dareth had noticed anything out of the ordinary. He didn't doubt it; it wasn't often one came across a girl in her early teenage years with white hair. Bleached hair wasn't uncommon on some worlds, he knew, but pure milk-white hair was almost unheard of even in as vast an area as the Imperium. In the rare occasions he had heard of it; it had been deemed a mutation, and some over zealous ecclesiarch had slain the child. True enough, hair of such a colour was indeed the sign of mutation, but of what kind of mutation was as important as the mutation itself.

Draco could sense great depths of untapped power in the girl, and was thankful that the preacher in the girl's village had been sensible enough not to simply jump to the conclusion of thinking the girl a monster. He'd seen her potential, and had informed the Administratum of his suspicions.

As usual, the sheer beaurocracy of the Administratum had prevented anything from being done about it, so the girl had grown up under the preacher's care, and he'd done his best to help her curb the power down the correct channels, instilling a strong sense of right and wrong in her mind. Draco had come to this system because he was chasing a heretical cult through the Warp and this planet, Trykus VI, had seemed the most likely location for them to flee to. As occasionally happened with Warp travel, however, the warp currents had experienced a surge, and the battleship he'd commandeered had arrived in this system almost twenty days before he'd even set off in pursuit of the cult leaders. Thus he'd opted to simply wait for their arrival. As a precaution, he'd landed planetside with a company's worth of Stormtroopers, all of whom new of the Cult, and their heresies. The Soldiers were to remain on the relatively small Agri-world, in order to bolster and aid the Planetary Defence Force Regiments.

Knowing he needed take no real part in the task of informing the planet's governor of the likelihood of the cult's approach, and that he would be less comfortable on the battleship, he and Dareth, under the guise of travelling historians on a fact-finding mission, had begun exploring the planet; always staying close enough to an obvious landmark for quick extraction, but far enough away to enjoy their wanderings to the fullest.

It had been near the end of yet another day's exploration, searching for somewhere to spend the night, that they'd found a settlement in the mountains; where they'd found beds in a building owned by the church.

Though undoubtedly pious, the preacher had been perfectly amiable, joining them in a drink. After a few glasses of some recently purchased Amasec, Draco had been speaking of some of the things he'd seen on his travels; carefully omitting the real reasons he'd gone to those places of course, and glossing over the deaths and horrors with the ease of long practice. Something he'd said, something he'd assumed at the time was completely inconsequential; certainly he couldn't remember now what it had been, the Preacher had suddenly recalled the girl.

Draco hadn't been lucky enough to find the exact preacher of course, but the two knew each other well, and on the occasions when Malakai, as the girl's guardian was named, expected to spend longer than a day in isolated meditation, she had come to stay in that very hall.

Not wanting to arouse suspicion, Draco did not press too hard for information about the girl, asking more about Malakai, saying that it would be good to know somewhere they might find a bed in perhaps a dew days time, while knowing full well he intended to find the girl much quicker than that. Something told him that allowing her to become part of the Adepta Astra Telepathica, or a tool for the Imperial Guard would be a severe waste. He rarely had unexplainable feelings like this, but they had always boded well before, and he hoped this would be no different.

Now he sat with the white haired girl facing him, her slender form held in place by the bulky seat straps, her eyes to the floor. Those eyes; he'd never seen any like them, and had no idea if that meant anything or if it was just a trait possessed by some natives of this world. Both the girls parents had died when she was very young (He thought it best not to speculate why) so it would be impossible to check them for the odd colourings.

Either way, it wasn't too important, he knew she had a gift, she had proven it many times since their first meeting. Her powers were undeveloped, and she tried her best to control them, but they were influenced by her emotions, as he learned not long after arriving in the church.

Malakai was preaching energetically to the population of _Peak's Gate_ about the evils of mutation; more than a little ironically Draco thought. It had been some time since Draco had simply sat and listened to a sermon, and realised that this preacher was unlike most of the ones Draco had known as a child. His appearance matched most Imperial citizens vision of a Preacher; his long white beard contrasting starkly with the gleaming dome of his cranium; his wizened old hands gripping the edges of his lectern as he gazed down at the congregation; dark eyes seeming to bore into the depths of every soul present, seeing every impure thought and secret desire. Despite knowing full well it was his imagination, Draco unconsciously raised his mental barriers. It was his voice that was different. Most preachers in these communities had an unshakable belief in the imperial creed, but had never seen a millionth of the horrors the universe contained. Malakai spoke with the dreadful certainty of a man who had seen and overcome more than his fair share of evils.

That last thought almost made Draco chuckle, reflecting that if the evils of the universe were shared out fairly, there would be plenty less Imperial citizens alive. Laughing in the middle of a sermon was undoubtedly foolish; not least because Malakai looked like the kind of priest to interpret such an interruption as an insult to the Emperor.

He listened silently to the rest of Malakai's sermon, he and Dareth standing just out of sight behind a pair of pillars. They had entered the church as the sermon neared its end, and it wasn't long before Malakai instructed his congregation to begin the final hymn 'The Purging Flames'. Draco took pleasure in adding his voice to those of some of the people he had vowed to protect when he joined the Ordo.

When the last words of the hymn died down, the people began filing out of the church, Draco waited until the majority had gone past him before striding up the central walkway between the pews where a few of the most pious were still seated in silent prayer. Malakai stepped own from his lectern to join the two of them; "I would prefer it that you apologize next time, should you ever arrive late to one of my sermons." The man's voice seemed quiet and calm now, an odd contrast to the volume and authority it commanded from the pulpit.

"My apologies Preacher Malakai, I thought it best not to interrupt." Draco bowed his head, and the priest accepted his apology with a small bow of his own. "Many have thought that; they seem to find me intimidating," he let out a chuckle, "I can't imagine why. Come now, what's your name young man? Not fair to me not to know who I'm talking to is it?"

Draco found that he was unable to keep from laughing; the man had an energetic humour that infected everything he said. "My name is Draco Silver, and my associate here is Dareth Solix, we're here to learn about your world."

"Well, I'll help as best I can, Mr Silver, but there's not too much to tell. I have rooms available if you need them, though I was under the impression you wouldn't be here so soon." He caught the momentary surprise on Draco's face and smiled. "Just because I didn't recognise your face doesn't mean I don't remember the people my friends tell me about. Sebastian voxed me about his talk with you this morning."

Draco smiled, wondering why he'd been on edge about something so obvious, and bowed in thanks; "I appreciate it preacher; but first, is there somewhere we can talk privately?"

Malakai indicated the confessional with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "I don't think there's anywhere more private on the planet than a confessional, might be a squeeze for you two though." He laughed again, and both Draco and Dareth both joined him, until he gestured through a door to their right and led them from the chapel.

The buildings near to the church seemed to function both as a hostel for travellers and Malakai's personal accommodation. Each room in the complex contained a single bed and sufficient storage space for any traveller. After finding them each a key and showing them everything they might need to find, they entered what was clearly the common room, large, comfortable looking chairs were gathered around tables in groups of varying sizes, and Malakai sat in one of a group of three armchairs near the window. The rest of the room was devoid of life, and Malakai informed them that their privacy was guaranteed as they were the only guests currently in residence.

In order to ease them all into a story-telling mood, Dareth reached into his pack, and drew out a bottle of amasec and three glasses; Malakai accepted his glass and swirled the first mouthful appreciatively, before swallowing and setting the glass down to begin his account of what he knew of the planet's history.

"After its reunification with the rest of the Imperium by the Great Crusade, I know very little about the history of this world, it being mostly concerned with the passing of governorship from one person to another, and to my knowledge the enemies of mankind have set foot here only once. 63 years ago, a swarm of bloodthirsty Orks descended on this peaceful system. Luckily for this world's inhabitants, a Force of Imperial Guard was nearby, and the soldiers were able to lend their aid in its defence." Draco felt he knew where this particular story was heading.

"You were serving with that guard force weren't you?"

Malakai grinned, "Aye, that I was. Sergeant Malakai, that was me back then. First time I'd fought a foe as destructive as the Orks though, having mostly seen Tau and Eldar before then." His face fell, the humour replaced by a sadness he'd clearly felt for many years. "Seeing what they'd done to this place, I handed in my resignation and took a position here helping the PDF get back together. Eventually, I got too old for that, and found this little village."

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough, with Draco and Dareth telling stories of their own about planets they'd visited. Despite the comfortable atmosphere, it wasn't long before Draco found himself wondering how to bring up the topic of the girl. Fortunately, he was saved the trouble when she knocked quietly and the door opened. "Mr Silver, Mr Solix, I'd like to introduce you to Hyara. She lives here, and helps me with some of the more... energetic aspects of its upkeep." The pale girl was dressed simply in a modest, ankle-length dark brown dress which emphasised her pale skin quite vividly. She bowed to her guardian's guests, her long braid of hair falling across her shoulder as she did so, where it remained as she straightened up, her eyes fixed on a point on the floor in front of her.

The girl didn't say a word, but Malakai nodded and stood up; "Dinner will be ready shortly, so we should move to the dining room. Thank you Hyara."

She bowed again, and turned quickly, the door opening itself before her and closing in the same manner. Draco watched in surprise; "Telepathy _and_ Telekinesis?"

Malakai looked closely at Draco, the same Gimlet stare from his sermon fixing itself onto Draco's eyes. "What do you know of such things?"

Draco stood before Malakai's most withering gaze, looking back at him calmly, which threw the preacher off balance even more than what he said; "I have allowed you to mislead yourself preacher. I am Inquisitor Draco Silver of His Imperial Majesty's most Holy Orders. I am here on behalf of the Ordo Hereticus, and I am requesting that you allow me to take the girl with me when I leave this wor..."

He never even managed to finish the word as the door to the kitchen was blasted from its hinges and crashed into his side, flinging him across the room. Dareth was up before he landed, a bolt pistol in his right hand, brought up to cover his master's attacker.

"Leave her Dareth!" Draco was already back on his feet, his body had been through far worse and he recovered quickly, rolling out from under the door and striding towards the girl. "Hyara, I don't want to do anything to hurt you, but if you throw anything else at me I might not have a choice."

Malakai had walked over beside the girl, placing his hand on her shaking shoulder, and speaking quietly to her, calming her. Eventually, he turned back to Draco, a cold suspicion in his face. "So, Inquisitor, why do you want to take the child away from her home?"

Draco chuckled at the absurdity of the question, but explained anyway; "I was under the assumption you _wanted_ someone to take her for proper training. Why in the name of Holy Terra did you think I wanted to take her away?"

Understandably, Hyara and Malakai had become quite attached to each other and it was clear the old man cared for her as much as he would care for his own child.

Despite this, Malakai knew she should leave sooner rather than drag it out. Their parting was an emotional one, and Draco left them alone until Hyara joined him at the shuttle door, holding the bag which contained all her few belongings. Again she was silent, and Draco knew that before he could teach her how to use her powers properly, she needed to learn when not to.


	2. Promotion Beckons

_Okay people; the previous chapter was more of a prologue than a chapter. Did I mention that? I guess I should have. Well I'm mentioning it now. This is where the story actually begins._

With the Data-slate in hand, Hyara approached her mentor's quarters; reflecting again on how much she owed him. The number of times he had saved her life, and the trust he had placed in her. Especially for all the things she had learned from him; self control, confidence, the importance of duty and loyalty, and of course; without his tutelage, she would not have progressed to her current position. For the thousandth time she found herself wondering exactly why he took such an interest in her, and knew she would never have the courage to ask him, no matter how long she served him.

Finding herself at his door, with his bodyguard looking at her quietly, she shook herself, forcing a serious expression on her face. She'd been standing there for several moments, she knew. Even through the helmet obscuring his features, she could tell Dareth was smirking at her. Other than Lord Silver himself, Dareth was the only one she felt she could trust. She didn't know much about him, and had never even seen his face. He rarely removed his Black armour, or the blue hooded Robe he wore over it; she supposed it was some personal joke that he even kept the hood drawn over his helmet. She knew he was older than her, but by how many years she had no idea.

Again she berated herself; 'Now is not the time to be daydreaming Hyara!'

"You're quite right... Now would be a good time to knock."

She imagined his smirk growing and cursed herself for transmitting her thoughts so carelessly. Ignoring the obvious jibe, she knocked twice.

"Enter."

The door slid open near silently, and she stepped inside, holding her cloak off the floor as she bowed. As she straightened up, she was mildly surprised to find her mentor staring out of the armourcrys window into the darkness, hands clasped behind his back, his pale grey hair falling loose across his shoulders. His dress sense was quietly formal, and today was no different; he wore a plain white shirt with black trousers and waist-coat of deep crimson, the gold buttons and cufflinks were the only obvious extravagant touches. Hyara unconsciously compared his elegant attire with her own functional black leather robes, designed to be easily cleaned, rather than to be worn as a matter of course. No matter how many times she saw him like this, it was still hard for her to connect the slim, friendly looking man before her with the imposing cold-hearted hunter he became on the field of battle, his form swathed in a cream coloured greatcoat; his face hidden under his black wide-brimmed hat. She wondered idly whether he was staring at some distant point he was consciously aware of, or merely gazing into the blackness, quietly awed by its sheer vastness.

He turned to her, interrupting her thoughts as he did so; "I've been thinking..." Hyara almost screamed at herself, twice in as many minutes... He raised a hand, forestalling her; "Okay. That I did hear." He walked towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder and locked his blue eyes onto her pale grey ones, and she noticed again how they didn't quite match up, He had lost his real Right eye, along with much of that side of his face, several years ago, and though the replacement eye was of the highest quality, there was something clearly unnatural about it, though the synthflesh around it blended perfectly with his normal skin tone. "Hyara, what's wrong?"

"I let someone hear my thoughts. I'm sorry my Lord." Her eyes dropped to the floor in shame. After all the training he'd given her, she was still failing.

"Before you start punishing yourself, who heard what thoughts?"

She looked up, feeling foolish. "I allowed Crusader Solix to hear some personal thoughts when I was outside your office just now."

"Hyara, you should know by now personal thoughts are the hardest ones to keep secret. In fact I've found on several occasions that the best way to hide the important truths is to think of something that caused me to doubt myself." Seeing her expression he chuckled, "What?"

"I'm sorry my Lord, it's just that you always seem so certain." His hand fell from her shoulder, and his face became dark.

"I wasn't always. There have been times when my faith has wavered." He turned his back to her, and sat at his desk, indicating the chair opposite him. When she saw his face again, the smile had returned, and it was as though the last sentence had never been spoken. For the first time, Hyara wondered whether her mentor's calm, playful demeanour could be an act.

"I believe you had some information for me?" He extended a hand, and took the data-slate, downloading the information so he could inspect it in more detail later. "It would appear that, once again, your suspicions were correct my Lord," Hyara summarised, "However, although we were able to receive this information from him; he refused to repent for his crimes."

He sighed and looked into her eyes, and saw the confusion and fear. "What did he say?"

"He just repeated the same phrase; he was claiming to be descendant from His Holy Majesty." She made the sign of the Aquila as she spoke the name, a worried look on her face.

Lord Silver leant back, and tried to laugh it off "You didn't believe him did you? That's the very reason we brought him here; for spouting those ridiculous heresies."

"I know that my Lord; and I know he was lying, just like all the others who have claimed the very same to my face. If he wasn't, we wouldn't have come. I was just concerned by the way he said it... He believed every word, even though the idea was completely impossible."

Lord Silver smiled at her "Hyara, heresies are often the words of people who do not think themselves heretics. They believe their own words, and the strength of their belief leads others astray. They are suffering from one of the worst kinds of insanity, for they appear to be completely sane." She felt calmed by his words, once again certain that everything she had done was for the good of the Imperium, even if only in a small way.

"How long has it been since you were an Explicator Hyara?" The question came out of nowhere, and it took her a moment to remember, "I think it's been 8 years now, approximately twice as long as I spent in that position."

He smiled at her again, "You began at 15, did you not? And yet you don't appear as if more than five years have passed; even with the white hair." She accepted the compliment with a smile, wondering where he was going with this. "Do you know why I chose to invite you onto my staff Hyara?"

"You said I had the makings of a good inquisitor, my Lord."

"Do I detect a note of suspicion in your voice Interrogator Quinta?" He sounded as serious as he did in battle, but his smile put her at ease. "That's good. It's exactly what I meant at the time; and I'm still as certain now as I was then that, given the chance, you would prove yourself more than worthy of the title. Well, it's about time I gave you that chance."

Hyara's jaw dropped open for a second, "My Lord, are you..."

He slid open one of the drawers in his desk and withdrew a scroll marked with a crimson wax seal bearing the mark of the Inquisition, and a small black box with same image emblazoned upon its lid.

"After your years of dedicated Service to the Imperium in general and to the Ordo Hereticus in particular, I; Inquisitor Lord Draco Alexei Silver, present you with this." With these words, he handed them both to Hyara, and gestured for her to open the scroll. Carefully prising open the seal, she unrolled it on the desk's smooth surface. It had been a while since she'd handled anything actually written on parchment like this. As she read it, her eyes widened in shock, and the real importance of the little box settled fully into her consciousness. The only thing nagging at her mind was how simple it seemed to be, and she mentioned her discomfort.

"Yes, it doesn't have quite the sense of grandeur you expect does it? I have had this in my possession for the last thee years, and four days ago, I received permission to present it to you officially. Welcome to the Ordo, Inquisitor Hyara Anyanka Quinta."

_So? What does everyone think? If you have a problem with the induction part, tell me, preferably with a suggested alternative. I'm going to keep writing this whether I put it up on here is a matter to be determined at a later date, ie, depending on how popular it seems to be. By the way, is there a way to find out how many people have read the story without them reviewing?_

_Just an idle thought..._


	3. Secrets Revealed

_Hello again loyal citizens of the Imperium, this story is brought to you by ME._

_Quick little disclaimery thing, specific to this chapter; I don't own the ideas/ranks/job thingies I use, it's all GW. Enjoy._

Hyara barely noticed the door closing behind her, and only noticed Dareth when he rose from his bow and spoke; "I wish you luck my Lady, may you always carry the Emperor's protection."

After a few awkward seconds, Hyara realised she'd better respond; "Thank you Dareth, and you. I apologise if I seem a little dazed, it's quite a shock." She sensed Dareth's smile again, and returned it; hers shifting into a devious smirk as a thought entered her mind. "Does this mean I can give you orders now Crusader Solix?"

Dareth took an involuntary half-step backwards; the innocent, quiet looking woman had suddenly become quite frightening, despite holding nothing but a scroll of parchment and a small black box. It wasn't even the knowledge of its contents that worried him. "I suppose so, if you wish my Lady." Dareth hadn't been this worried since facing a room filled with pyromancer witches and their traitor guards, with only his own equipment and a squad of Stormtroopers.

"In that case," her face didn't shift as she spoke the next words; she simply enjoyed his mixed confusion and relief, "Remove your helmet."

Dareth almost laughed in surprise. "Hyara, you didn't need to give me an order for that..." He threw back the hood as he spoke, and paused as he raised the adamantium helm from his head. "All you had to do was ask."

Hyara felt a unexpected happiness flow through her as she finally saw the smile she had felt so often. His face was not as she'd imagined it though. Her mental image of Dareth Solix was one of a much-scarred, grey haired man, probably with dark eyes.

She could have been more wrong, but not easily. Dareth's face bore not even a single scar; in fact, she realised, he had quite a handsome face; distinctly masculine, with only the beginnings of the lines of age. His light brown hair, framed his face loosely, some falling naturally to partly cover the left of his lively green eyes.

For his part, he found it a little disconcerting, but just as refreshing, to be able to look at her face without his helmet visor's icons on his peripheral vision. He also realised for the first time just how pale her eyes truly were; every other time he'd seen her, it had been through the tint of his visor. Now without that barrier, he saw that her irises were barely different in shade from the surrounding area.

He brushed the hair from his face with a casual movement, and grinned at her expression; an odd combination of mild surprise, happiness and relief. He wasn't sure where all those emotions had come from, but he knew how to take advantage of surprise. "How close was your guess?"

Hyara blinked, the question barely registering, "What guess?"

"About what I looked like, I know you'd thought about it, it's natural to wonder about something like that."

"Older." Hyara was a little embarrassed about admitting it. It was hardly flattering. "I thought you'd look older, I suppose. With more scars."

Dareth affected an expression of mock offence; "My Lady, I am insulted. No weapon has ever pierced deep enough to leave a scar." He watched in amusement as her expression flitted from apologetic to embarrassment to relief and then relaxed as she accepted the joke. There weren't many people on Lord Silver's permanent staff that he could talk to so easily; Draco hadn't taken on any other Acolytes; and Dareth found the torturers slightly creepy, though he couldn't explain why; No-one talked to the Penitents because it was disturbing; and Draco's Familiar was a Servo-skull, not a particularly eloquent conversationalist. That left two others; a Savant by the name of Klaus Fahrstein, and a Sister Hospitaller (When she wasn't at prayer) called Marianna Tiyalis, with neither of whom he felt the same comfort as he did with Hyara, and he was fairly sure she was in a similar situation.

She smiled at him; "Thank you Dareth, I needed to loosen up a bit after today, it's been weird. Right now I feel so tired I'm not sure I can make it back to my quarters, never-the-less, I must struggle on in the face of adversity... It said it on the scroll." She added defensively, noticing his incredulous look, finding it an enormous amount easier to judge his reactions without the impassive helmet getting in the way.

"In that case My Lady I will allow you to return to your room, on condition you let me put my helmet back on." They both laughed and she nodded, just in case he was actually waiting for her to say yes. She headed off down the corridor as he lifted it back into place. As she turned the first corner, she turned to him, and called back "And stop calling me 'My Lady' it's too formal."

The door behind Dareth slid open just as her braided hair flicked out of sight, and Draco's voice said; "Do you think she'd listen to me if I said that to her?"

Dareth considered it for a moment; "Hard to say. Before today, I doubt it, unless you gave her an order. Now though, I wouldn't put money on it either way."

"Could you have a word with her about it? It always annoys me when rank gets in the way of friendship."

"I'll see what I can do...My Lord."

Draco shoved Dareth's shoulder playfully, "Don't you start." The laughter faded from his voice as he added, "There is something else I'd like you to do for me though, as a favour..."

"You want me to go with her." Stated Dareth, he'd been expecting it ever since the confirmation of her appointment.

"Yes my friend. I know it's foolish, but I've started to think her as, if not a daughter, then a younger sister; and I want to make sure nothing happens to her. I know she can take care of herself, and I know there are plenty of capable soldiers eager to take up a position like this, but I want a guarantee she'll be safe."

Dareth nodded, he'd thought it through, and reached the same conclusion. "I think we should take Marianna with us as well, her skills will be useful wherever we're going. Does she know what her first mission will be yet?"

"No, not yet, It's enough of a shock to be inducted without being sent out the door straight into a mission. I'll give her a few days to get her head around the idea, though it may not take that long." Dareth looked his friend in the eyes, and saw that there was something he wanted to say.

"There's something special about her." He prompted.

"There is." Draco nodded, "Do you know about _the Assignment?"_

Dareth heard the inflection, "It's not just another word for mission in this context is it?"

Draco shook his head, "It's the scale on which the level of Psionic activity is measured. It's fairly complicated and measured in levels rather than values. It's an ascending scale; from Omega, Psi, Chi, through the levels of normal human brain activity, Rho and Pi, residual power ranges between Omicron and Kappa. Active Psykers measure between Iota and Alpha, which is generally considered to be too much power for a mind to contain safely, and then there's a reverse scale on top of that, from alpha plus up to Omega plus. You've heard of the Apex Twins, they rated alpha plus. Last time I checked, my power was Delta, the fourth highest level."

Dareth listened with half his mind, the other half skipping ahead of the conversation and coming to the only obvious conclusion. "What level is Hyara's power operating at?" He asked just to confirm his suspicions.

"I assumed initially that her power would rate at gamma or possibly beta, but I was wrong. I don't know how she does it, but she's containing a power level I never would have thought possible for someone so normal; she's almost Alpha."

_Just to clarify the disclaimer now that it's not going to spoil it, I don't own the Assignmemt, and the Apex twins are also a GW invention. Therefore if you don't know the story, check the GW website. The story is under Witch hunters; Villainy and Infamy._


	4. The Mission

_Hello again peoples; You have my apologies for the lateness of this chapter's arrival, and of course for the fact that nothing especially thrilling has so far happened. I promise you that there WILL be destruction. Eventually._

Hyara left her quarters swiftly. When an Inquisitor Lord requests your presence, you don't hang around. In the four standard days since her ascension into the ranks of the Ordo, her habits had changed little, and she still wore her Interrogator uniform, something Dareth had commented on several times.

The corridors of the building were as busy as always. There were all sorts of servants hurrying to and from the different rooms. Hyara had never understood why there were quite so many people working for Lord... 'Draco, Dareth said he wanted me to call him Draco, Emperor but that's weird.'

As if specifically to counteract all the confusion in her mind, Dareth had been exactly as he always was. He had kept up his habit of guarding whatever room Draco was in at the time, although there were few people who knew the building's location; and fewer still would be foolish enough to try to attack an Inquisitor in his own home.

Dareth bowed his head to her as she approached Draco's office, then shook it in mock disappointment; "Hyara, this is an important meeting, surely you could have worn something less, grim."

"Grim Dareth?" She looked down at her attire, "It may not be colourful, but I can't see how it looks grim."

"It's not how it looks Hyara, it's what it represents."

Her mouth opened in an 'o' of realisation as his meaning dawned on her. Her interrogator's uniform represented the hidden, more 'tactile' aspect of what the inquisition did. Not a positive undertone for receiving her first mission.

She voiced her concerns to Dareth, who stated simply; "Don't worry, as observant as he is, Draco won't care too much about that. He went through the same thing, remember?"

"I suppose you're right. I'd better not keep him waiting too long." She said, moving to knock on the door. At his acknowledgement, she opened the door, glancing around the room to see him sitting at his desk, shifting some files onto a side pile.

She approached the desk, and sat in the chair he indicated.

"Hyara, why would you say I've asked you here today?" He asked, surprising her. Of all the possible beginnings, that wasn't one she'd considered.

"I'm not sure, but I did think that it might be about my first mission."

"You thought correctly, as I expected. I would have preferred it if you could have had more time to get accustomed to the idea of what being an Inquisitor entails, but..." He sighed, clasping his hands together in front of his face, "It is not for me to decide when and where your true initiation takes place."

Hyara nodded, trying to hide the smile. Of course, Draco hadn't become an Inquisitor Lord by being unobservant. "What's so funny Hyara?"

A slight flush was the only visible sign of her embarrassment; "It's nothing. It's just that I'm fairly sure I'm ready for a mission; I have been on missions before remember? That and the way you said it... You sounded so paternal."

He grinned, "You're not going to start calling me 'Dad' are you? 'My Lord' was bad enough." He added to her almost obvious embarrassment, then continued; "Anyway, the mission. You're to investigate a planetary governor." He slid a Data-slate over the desk to her, "All the details are in there, make sure you memorise it all, then wipe the slate before you get there. Count Angelus is the governor of the third planet in the Oren system, the most tropical of the four inhabitable planets."

She was surprised by his suddenly official manner, but skimmed the information quickly. It looked fairly simple; the planet in question appeared to be very similar to many of the other planets in the Imperium in that it was divided into a fairly simple class system. There were workers; most of whom were employed in the factories producing lasguns which were distributed between the many Imperial Guard Regiments. There was a merchant class, which mostly consisted of families who owned a small number of transport ships and traded with nearby systems, practically all of whom were more concerned with raising their family's status than anything else. The families with the most expansive trading rights, and correspondingly the highest planetary status were the main constituent of the ruling classes. Their trade routes were so profitable that they heads of the families tended to be rich enough to employ people to run them, leaving them enough time to deal with all the superficial, two-faced friendships and temporary alliances which made up the majority of planetary politics wherever you were.

The main problem seemed to be that the number of weapons reaching the various Regiments didn't tally with the amount of resources that was sent to the planet. Unsurprisingly, it had taken some time for this to be noticed by the Administratum, and even longer before it was brought to the Inquisition's attention. It seemed very mundane, and Hyara couldn't help but voice her concern;

"Could I just ask why this was deemed important enough for an Ordo Hereticus representative to be sent in?" She had her suspicions about the mission, and was worried that this had been assigned to her because Draco wanted her first mission to be easy. She guessed from his expression that she had been partly right;

"I understand your concern, but believe me, as much as I wanted to ease you into this, it's not quite as mundane as the first part of the report would suggest. If that was the full situation, this would indeed have been issued to an Administratum Adept." He gestured for the slate, and scrolled down until he found the appropriate section. Passing it back to her, he continued; "Many of the crew on the merchant ships from Oren Tertius were reported to be slightly dazed and unsure about certain things. This and a few other things suggested that Count Angelus might be more than he seems."

"Is he suspected of Heresy?" Hyara was more enthusiastic about the mission now that she knew she might be bringing a heretic to justice.

"No more than usual," Draco enjoyed mocking the stereotypical image of an Inquisitor. Hyara knew from experience that there were Inquisitors in the galaxy who were less careful with their accusations; Lord Karamazov came to mind; he'd been right, but it had caused him a lot of trouble. "No Hyara, We don't think he's a Heretic, though it's always a possibility. We believe he may be a witch, or at least have a connection to one."

Hyara nodded, having clarified her true mission; "So my mission is more to find out whether there are witches involved with the Count than to make sure the planet's production quota gets filled." She smiled, "I can do that."

Draco matched her smile, "I wouldn't have given you the mission so soon if I thought anything different. I've asked Dareth and Marianna to accompany you, and if there's anyone else on my staff you feel would be helpful, all you have to do is ask."

Hyara had known that he'd want to keep her as safe as possible, but she was touched that he would ask his own bodyguard to help her. She chose not to interpret it as a slight to her self defence. "Thank you, Draco." She couldn't help but stop when she saw the flash in his eyes. "What?"

"You've avoided saying my name for four days now; carefully avoiding it. You stopped calling me Lord Silver, but that's the first time I've heard you say that name to my face, I'm just glad you said it before you left. Maybe you're more ready than I thought." He smiled to show he was teasing her, and stood up, gesturing for her to remain seated as he did so. He crossed to one of the unadorned walls, saying; "There was just one more thing I wanted to give you before you left, and I think now is as good a time as any." He waved a hand at the wall, and Hyara felt a small surge that told her he was using his psychic abilities. A section of the wall slid open, to reveal a small keypad, into which he punched an 8 digit long string of numbers, which in turn caused another, larger panel to slide away. This revealed a black box that looked just over a meter in length.

"I had these made for you, call it a graduation present if you like, but I thought you could do with something a little more... impressive than your current arsenal." Saying this he placed the box on the desk in front of Hyara and opened it.

His words had made Hyara think back to the laspistol and chainsword which had been her weaponry since joining his staff. The equipment in the box thrust any thought of ever using them again from her mind.

The box was lined with a crimson material, in which lay a sword, whose hilt, guard and scabbard were intricately woven with golden wire forming holy images and hexagrammic symbols. The discreet switch set into the handle at about the position her thumb would sit reminded her of her mentor's weapon, and as she drew it, her suspicions were confirmed by the thin cables running up the flat of the blade. It was a power sword. The magnificence of the weapon by no means outshined the importance of the other item on the case. Lying next to five full clips of ammunition was a gleaming, decorated (but by no means decorative) bolt pistol. She lifted it out of the case, finding it noticeably heavier than her standard issue laspistol, but knowing that she could easily learn to account for it with practice. Another advantage of the bolt pistol was that even if her shot was a little off target, the explosive shells could make even a glancing blow an incapacitating wound, if not fatal.

She was literally speechless as she examined the new weapons, and Draco's expression told her that she didn't need to thank him. He really was acting very paternal today.

_So, what does everybody think? Too much of the friendliness, not enough hacky blasty heretic smashing? I'll get there, even if it takes a while, I'll get there._


	5. The Enigma

Carefully returning the weapons to their places in the box, Hyara rose from her seat and bowed her head to her mentor. She closed the box as she asked "I doubt this is traditional."

Draco chuckled "Probably not, but does that matter?"

"I suppose not." She agreed with a smile.

There didn't seem to be anything much left to say on the subject, so she lifted the box and the Data-slate, and turned to go. "I'd better start figuring out how to approach this mission. I'm sure Dareth will have a few suggestions, whether I ask for them or not."

"It might be a good idea to listen to him; he's good at picking up on things that others dismiss out of hand. Listening to him has saved me a lot of time on more than one occasion." Draco walked to the door with her as he spoke, and held out his hand as it opened. He was quite surprised when, instead of shaking his hand, she placed the box down and stepped in to hug him. He felt a little embarrassed as he imagined Dareth's eyebrow raising and felt sure Hyara sensed the same thing, because she pulled away quite suddenly, a slight flush in her cheeks. She grabbed the case and hurried away without another word.

Dareth looked at his friend and, in spite of the helmet, Draco knew exactly what he was thinking; "I don't know why she hugged me either Dareth." He decided to turn it into a joke to change the subject. "You're not jealous are you?"

Dareth rolled his eyes, and the movement of his helmet which accompanied he expression left no doubt as to what he thought of the idea.

"Draco; stop kidding around, and tell me what was in that case."

Dareth's stern tone and attempt to wrest some seriousness back into the situation left Draco with only one possible option; "So you're giving the orders now eh? I suppose I missed the announcement that you were promoted."

Eventually through simply remaining quiet and frowning, Dareth managed to get Draco to give up on teasing him. "All right, all right; I'll tell you. The case contains nothing more important than a parting gift from me. It's nothing too special I just had some new weapons made for her. Weapons more fitting to her new status."

"Made by your favourite Artificers I suppose?"

Draco affected an offended expression; "You wouldn't insult me by suggesting I'd have inferior weapons made would you?"

Dareth shook his head in exasperation. Sometimes Draco's sense of humour could get tiring, he was looking forward to spending a mission away from it. Especially because it seemed to be rubbing off on him.

* * *

The room was dark. So dark that the walls could not be seen. The only thing fully visible was the man kneeling deferentially in a pool of light. His robes were richly made, but carefully devoid of insignia, and the body on which they hung showed evidence of an easy, luxury filled life, and to the careful observer, the subtle hints of a series of cosmetic surgeries.

In the shadows around him he could hear the dulled chanting of the many dark-robed acolytes of the person he had come to see. 'It's ironic,' he thought 'that I am the one being seen.' He didn't know much about who the person in the chair really was. All he knew was that 'Erus' whoever it was; was a powerful Psyker.

Suddenly a voice from the shadows, though the illuminated man couldn't pinpoint where, cut through the chanting; "I think that's enough kneeling. Stand and face me."

The owner of the voice watched in amusement as the man stood slowly, and looked around the darkness. From the throne, 'Erus' could see the entire room. The chamber was large, but it was not as pitch black as the man in the circle thought. There were, in truth only about two dozen people in the room, though Erus knew that the chanting echoing off the walls would seem like it was coming from a thousand voices. That was what the room was designed to do. It wasn't anywhere near as comfortable as Erus' official chambers; but when one is attempting to intimidate, making the 'victim' comfortable or secure is not high on one's list of priorities.

"I would face you Eru..."

"Silence!" Erus interrupted. It was not that anyone was likely to be listening, or that anyone who was would get anything from the name. Erus had simply seen an opportunity to reinforce the idea of who was in charge. Of course, making the fool think that the name meant something wasn't a bad thing. If he decided to try and investigate Erus, the name would probably lead him a merry dance before revealing itself as nothing. "Do not speak that name! If you wish to address me, you may call me 'master'." Erus let out a laugh, eerily turning the expression of genuine mirth into the most disconcerting sound manageable. It turned out to be quite effective. The fool, who had considered himself worthy of an audience, looked both riled and terrified.

Understandably, he opted to cease using any form of address in an attempt to maintain his dignity; even though it had been forfeit when he had knelt like a servant of his own volition.

"I would face you, if I knew where you were."

"Where do you think I am?" Erus was beginning to enjoy this conversation. The man in the light was completely controlled, even though no Psychic force had been applied. Erus revelled in this kind of manipulation; it was so much more fun than the passive indifference on the face of the puppets.

"I would expect you to be right before me." The guess could not have been more wrong. Even though the path from the entrance had been perfectly straight, and he had not turned his body once, he was not in fact facing the same direction as he had when he entered. It was one of Erus' favourite parts of the chamber. While the guest had knelt in supplication, the floor beneath him had rotated 180°.

"You would be wrong. I'm behind you." A light behind the throne came on, revealing Erus' location, but nothing more. The man spun round in shock and staggered backwards with his arm over his eyes when the glare hit him. For the first time since the man had entered the chamber, Erus decided to take a proper look at the man. His dark hair was cropped just past his ears; giving it an odd look, but one that seemed to work. The stubble on his chin was clearly here to hide the softness of his face rather than for any real stylistic purpose; it did not however look out of place.

Erus laughed again, not a friendly laugh, the kind of laugh that came from someone who watched people being slowly dismembered, and found it infinitely amusing. Not that Erus had ever wasted a perfectly good slave by having them dissected.

"So, now that you've found me; what exactly is important enough that you would seek me out?"

_Hope you're all enjoying it so far, there's plenty of the story yet to come. I felt that the story could do with a question, and thus I give you Erus. A bit of a mystery._


	6. The Journey Begins

_Hullo readers. I know you're there, so stop tyring to hide. I have been requested to speed the story up a bit, and coincidentally, that's just what this chapter does. I do not take orders, though I do consider requests. Anyway, I'll stop interrupting myself now,and tell you the next bit._

The crowd surged towards the open hatches, each group eager to reach their allotted compartment so that they could stow their belongings and find the best seats in the recreational areas. The ship was headed for a system in Segmentum Ultima which boasted some of the best tropical climates in the Imperium, though it was rumoured to be dropping off an Administratum representative in a system along the way. The crowd currently swarming like a nest of hungry ants around a corpse was almost exclusively made up of Merchants and their families. The one group which stood out from the crowd (in more ways than one) consisted of a tall man with light brown hair and a long blue robe, accompanied by a woman in a white and blue dress, and a girl whose age would be difficult to guess.

The group would not look conspicuous if it were not for two things; firstly because they were not pushing forwards with the rest of the passengers, content merely to watch as the over-excited holiday makers trod on each others toes and barged into each other, cursing and threatening impotently, knowing full well that even if they did see the person who just jabbed his elbow into their ribcage again, they wouldn't recognise them.

Mostly however, the group stood out because of the girl. Despite her attempts to dress in common fashions, her stance, and the unusual shade of her hair and complexion suggested someone out of the ordinary.

When she spoke it was at a volume carefully measured to be audible over the noise of the crowd, but not loud enough for the crowd itself to hear;

"Tell me again why I don't just commandeer the ship and leave all these people behind? I am an Inquisitor."

Her male companion sighed; to anyone who heard it; it would have been instantly recognisable as the sigh of someone who has already given an explanation several times and knows that this time, like before, the recipient of the advice will hear it, but will not be truly listening. "We are trying to keep a low profile, Hyara. I know it's your first mission as an Inquisitor, and I'm sure you're itching to use your influence, but if we start commandeering vessels, and redirecting its path completely, no-one is going to think we're low ranking Administratum adepts. If this Angelus is really a witch we might as well fix a Seal onto the hull."

The girl nodded, accepting his advice. She couldn't help thinking aloud though; "It would make it easier though. I mean, if he knew an Inquisitor was coming, then; if he's hiding something more than a bit of secretive trading, he'll run like any other heretic."

The white-clad woman spoke up, cutting off Hyara before she actually made Dareth regret accepting to accompany her; "In theory, Hyara; but even if he has no real reason to fear an Inquisitor, he might panic, thinking that the Inquisition suspects that he does. People act guiltily when they panic."

"In any case Hyara; we've got a plan. It's a sensible plan, and unless this Count is exceptionally bright; as long as we all stay in character it will work." Dareth pointed out.

Hyara scuffed her foot against the floor, giving in and keeping her hypothetical situations to herself. Looking up, she saw that the crowd had thinned, and the remaining people were pushing less, obviously having given up on getting good seats in the bars. "Come on, we might as well get to our cabins."

They had affected the personalities of low level Adepts even before booking the rooms, so they had one family-sized cabin. Two rooms, three beds. An unfortunate situation, but eventually Dareth convinced Hyara that his taking the largest bed alone was the only sensible option, partly because it left the two women sharing a room.

The final arrangements were mostly for the sake of decency, but also supported the idea that Hyara and Marianna were of a lower rank than Dareth. His being the eldest made it obvious that he would be the most senior Adept.

After stowing their luggage in their respective rooms, Hyara decided to delay Dareth's suggestion that they go over the plan again until after they had gotten a feel for their current surroundings. She also suggested that splitting up would be the most sensible option, they would be more likely to find useful escape routes, should they be needed; and each of them could easily deal with anyone on board who might be foolish enough to attack them. The likelihood of which, she pointed out, was next to nil; as only Draco knew they were here.

After persuading both her companions into leaving her alone for a while, Hyara found a map of the ship's facilities, and after noting a few important things, found the nearest bar, and headed straight there. It had been a hard day, and allowing herself to be lost in the bustle of people who currently had nothing more important in their lives than remembering not to spend all their holiday money on the ship, was a good way to unwind a little.

Settling into a stool at the bar, whose previous occupant was kind enough to leave with only the slightest mental influence, she ordered a drink of water. Draco wouldn't have been too happy to see her use her power so selfishly, but she already had a headache from resisting the impulse to just force Dareth and Marianna to do as she said, and felt she deserved not to have to manually persuade the man to leave.

She sipped the chilled liquid, and felt the pressure in her mind ease as she allowed herself to relax, taking every aspect of the room in even as she closed her eyes. Her training cut in instinctively and she automatically started noting escape routes and potential threats. Naturally there were less of the latter; though there were still a few potential hazards. One of which was the heavily built man a few seats away downing glass after glass of ale like he needed it to survive.

She decided it would be sensible to keep an eye on him, but didn't bother wasting her energy with anything but the occasional glance. When she felt sufficiently calmed, she decided to go and listen to Dareth's rebriefing; she had promised to after all. She finished her drink, which to her relief was still cold, and stood up to leave. She spared one last glance at the big man, and saw with some trepidation that he seemed to be paying for the copious amount of alcohol he'd consumed. In theory it could be a coincidence, but one of the first lessons she'd had drilled into her was that things are rarely as they seem. Draco was fond of saying that they're often a damn sight worse. (She was sure he was quoting someone, but had never been able to find out who.)

She left quickly, taking the fastest route back to the cabin. Pausing for a while as she rounded a corner and looking back, fighting down the natural urge to run she felt as she watched the man's bulky form staggering drunkenly towards her. Even if she had moved then, he was already closer than she would have thought possible for a man of his size and obvious inebriation.

His right hand clamped over her mouth, slamming her skull against the plasteel wall, while his left started stroking her arm. Though her head ached again from the impact, she was still lucid enough to retch as his reeking breath hit her. "Hey there girly..." his words slurred together, but the implication was clear, "I jus' wanneda tellya yer reel pretty..." His words of course were the only things with even a mote of decency in them; his left hand had moved off her arms and was fumblingly trying to remove her clothes. That, of course was when Hyara lost her patience. Waiting and hoping that he'd just fall over wouldn't cut it any more. The man was clearly very drunk, because he'd left all her limbs free, and no matter how hard he held her face, it wouldn't make any difference.

Her right arm swung up to move his left away from her, grabbing his wrist and locking it in as uncomfortable a position as she could manage. Her left hand slammed into his right temple, and his grip broke completely. She grabbed his shirt, and swung him into the wall. His head smacked back, and he lost consciousness. Even though she knew full well he wouldn't feel it yet, she pressed her foot down onto his crotch, hoping that it would still hurt when he woke up.

As she headed away, she felt quite proud of her restraint.

It would have been so easy to throw him off, or even all the way down the corridor without even moving.

_Okay, I've been fairly easy going with the review requests, but this is chapter five, and if you've just found the story,and read this far, you must be at least a little interested, so I'd appreciate knowing about it. If you want to make suggestions; you're welcome to, but don't expect me to change the story too much._

_Thank you for listening... Er... You know what I mean._


	7. Friendship & Control

Hyara tried to put the man out of her mind; there was little chance he'd report to the provosts that he'd been knocked unconscious by a woman half his size, even if he did remember their encounter. She realized, however, that Mariana and Dareth would want to know about what she'd found out. The idea of lying to them didn't even cross her mind. It would be annoying to mention the fact she'd been attacked, but it would be worse to know she had been dishonest with them, even about something so small.

She keyed in the door code, and went to lie on her bunk and wait for the other two to return. It was quite a surprise for her to find them both sitting in the common area of the cabin. They looked up as she entered, and she was even more surprised to see a look of concern flash across their faces. It was Marianna's voice which first broke the awkward silence; "Lady Quinta..." she stalled, unable to find a suitable way to phrase her question, fortunately for her, Dareth had no qualms about protocol.

"Hyara, we agreed to meet back here after hour; what the warp happened?" He stood up to approach her, and Marianna followed suit a little more hesitantly.

Hyara looked at them both, not letting her confusion show. She had no recollection of a deadline. Presumably she'd stopped listening after her companions agreed to go along with her suggestions. A fact she didn't feel dishonest about not disclosing. She opted to simply tell them most of what happened.

When she finished, the concern was back on their faces. Dareth seemed to be struggling with something; "He did what!?"

"I've told you that. It doesn't really matter; I'm fine, and he is most likely not going to suffer any lasting effects."

"Hyara you were attacked! Of course it matters." Dareth seemed convinced that the man must have been part of some secret plot.

"I was not attacked Dareth. I merely received some unwanted attention from an intoxicated man, and got rid of him." Dareth looked ready to protest again, but Marianna spoke up first, silencing him.

"I think that if the man had been any ore than he seemed he would have been more of a challenge than he clearly was. It also seems unlikely that any assassin would spend, how long did you say milady; half an hour? Spend half an hour drinking hard liquor before attempting to kill an inquisitor." Hyara appreciated Marianna's pragmatic approach to the situation; hoping that Dareth would listen to the logic. Of course, she was disappointed.

"He may not have been looking for an inquisitor, maybe he wanted to kill the adepts we're supposed to be?"

Hyara could tell the discussion was going to go on for some time, Dareth had been an Inquisitor's bodyguard for so long that rooting out intrigue and plots was almost second nature to him now, and he would explore every possibility before letting go of the idea.

She left dissuading Dareth from murdering the drunk to Marianna, and walked over to the viewport. As she gazed out into the darkness, with its innumerable stars like pinpricks in a cloth, she felt a familiar sensation and the darkness became complete as the outer shield slid up. The transition to the Warp went as smoothly as any ever did, and a voice sounded over the vox system, informing the holiday goers that there would be a day's delay in the journey due to a slight course alteration. Hyara didn't listen very intently to the message, because she knew it all already; and went to try and sleep through the warp journey, praying to the Emperor that the void shield she'd ordered for her cabins would hold. It was one of the few things that truly worried her; knowing that here, in the Immaterium, there was little she could actually do to prevent a daemon from getting into her head and doing more damage than anything else could even fathom.

* * *

Count Lucius Angelus gazed out at the view from his city office; the buildings standing majestically around the perimeter walls of his palace gardens always made him appreciate what an uncomplaining workforce could accomplish. As he stared, he once again contemplated the news that had been bothering him since he'd received it several days ago. His competence as a ruler was being called into question. Three adepts were being sent by the Administratum. It was partly the number of them that was bothering him; the message had described the delegation as two junior Adepts and one of a more senior status. He didn't quite see why a senior Adept was being sent for an investigation which the message had classed as minor, but he decided it was likely nothing more than an error in the mission issuing process. He reasoned that if that system was operated in a similar way to all the others, things like this would be quite commonplace. What really bothered him though was the fact that, despite the length of time it had taken for the discrepancy to be noticed; he had no good excuses. To make matters worse, almost all the evidence pointed to the fact that he'd been selling off the excess weapons to rogue traders for quite a few years now, and he really couldn't care less what they did with them.

They were due to arrive sometime tomorrow, and he'd already organized a welcoming committee. He had of course sent his regards, and an apology for being unable to meet them in person, but he was planning to be very busy at whatever time they turned up.

He felt sure he could handle any questions they might have by simply pretending the problem didn't exist. He was a politician; that was basically his job.

His calling, of course, was very different. He was comfortable in the knowledge that before too long, he would be able to remove any problems he'd face; starting with these foolish Imperial loyalists.

Thoughts of the Administratum drones were pushed to the back of his mind as the heavy doors to his office swung open. Many people in Lucius' position would have been angered by having anyone just enter like this without direct instruction. Lucius was no different. The visitor hadn't knocked because she hadn't needed to. Lucius looked away from the window, and turned to the girl who was now standing in front of his desk perfectly straight, waiting for his acknowledgement before relaying the information.

Lucius didn't need to face his servants to give them their instructions; he didn't even need to be in the same room, his powers allowed him to command them accurately from anywhere within the palace; and he had an influence over practically every mind on the planet, even some on other planets in the system. He only spoke to the servants he was fond of, such as this girl. He even allowed her free will. A luxury he did not often extend.

"Yes, Fiona? What news?" He asked with a smile designed to relax her.

Fiona returned the smile, before beginning her report. "Count Angelus, you asked me to check up on the activities of certain groups in the system. Of the groups, only one has yet to join what is swiftly becoming a gang war. There is little activity on our world, thankfully, but on Oren Septus the law enforcers have almost no control."

"Oren Septus is a Hive world. They're all like that aren't they?"

"Often they are sir; though it is not unheard of for hive worlds to have below average gang activity."

He allowed her to continue the report uninterrupted; noting smugly that it was very much like he'd anticipated.

_Seemed a good place to stop. I would just like to again request that any of you who have read this far and not reviewed, and I KNOW you're out there; I feel a little snubbed. I understand that you may not have a account, but it doesn't cost anything or you could even just e-mail me. I just want to know what it is that people like about my story. If this sounds whiney I apologise, but it really would be nice to have _some_ feedback._


	8. Politeness & Curiosity

_This chapter's just travellation really, which might be why it was so hard to just get it done. Anyway, here we go._

The complaints of the holiday makers were oblivious to Dareth and Marianna as they boarded the shuttle bound for Oren Tertius; but Hyara, despite her best efforts, felt like she was in the middle of a muttering, angry crowd. She was finding it hard to ignore the voices that she was trying so hard to block. Just as she felt she wouldn't be able to take any more of the endless pettiness, her mind focussed gratefully on the real voice breaking through the wash of echoes rebounding inside her skull.

"Hyara, we're almost ready to launch, sit down and strap yourself in." Marianna was making sure to keep in character in public, even though the chance of the shuttle crew actually talking about them to anyone on Oren Tertius was remote, it wouldn't be very convincing for Hyara to seem to be in charge of their little group. Any hints that she was an inquisitor could lead to difficult situations later.

Unlike many of the transports Hyara had travelled in, this shuttle was designed for comfort. All shuttles were sturdy enough to handle small arms fire; otherwise any breathable atmosphere would destroy them on entry, but few civilian shuttles were expected to. The straps were just a basic belt across the midsection and a single shoulder strap; which would only be worn during take-off and landing, she silently compared it to the bulky, net-like crash webbing of the Imperial guard drop-ships Draco had occasionally commandeered for their less covert missions.

"Do we know how long the trip will take?" Hyara asked checking the chronometer on the wall, and finding it inactive.

"The ship seems to be holding a fairly low orbit, so we should be on the surface in less than twenty minutes." Dareth knew it was an overestimate, but appearing not to be too familiar with landing procedures was as important for keeping their cover as carefully filtering their speech of any military terms. He politely declined the drink offered by a stewardess, his companions following suit, settling into their seats and half listening to the standard safety announcement.

Alexia watched the shuttle hover over the pad while its landing gear locked into place. As it softly touched down, the entry ramp descended and the Administratum delegation appeared at the top. She moved away from the car and approached the three figures. When she was close enough to speak to them, she bowed respectfully, and gestured that they should follow her to the car "I am here on behalf of Count Angelus, follow me please."

Dareth nodded his head, gesturing to the porters to collect their bags, they walked behind Count Angelus' single delegate. Dareth asked the question an Adept would ask, not the one he really wanted an answer to. "I hope our coming here is not too much of an inconvenience for the Count?"

The girl took the question at face value. "His lordship sends his apologies, but matters of state required his urgent attention. He has offered you the use of his country residence until he can greet you properly."

Dareth, despite his civilian appearance, was still an Inquisitor's bodyguard, and, while his mouth continued with the pleasantries; telling Alexia that they would be honoured to accept such a gracious offer, he immediately gauged the transport's protective capabilities before settling into his seat. As his companions sat down near him, and Hyara tried to get comfortable in the soft, leather covered chair, he described exactly what he thought of the car.

"Even my superiors don't have seats this soft, or this much room."

To anyone trying to listen in, it would most likely seem to be an innocuous compliment, but both comments had double meanings, and his companions translated his words automatically. 'More money than sense, no armour in the walls.'

The journey to Angelus' 'country residence' was uneventful. The most interesting thing that happened was catching a glimpse of some local law enforcers; who, Alexia informed them, were known simply as enforcers. Even that was rendered irrelevant when Hyara realised that they were just patrolling.

She spent most of the trip considering how to carry out the mission without arousing suspicion, and exploring the theory that the count might just be selling on some of the raw materials. That might explain the reduced numbers of lasguns produced here, and the fact that a vehicle he felt comfortable enough to spare was more expensive than any of those she'd seen Draco use. The fact this man had at least two houses was another tick for 'greedy', partly because they were 'residences' and, it seemed to her that only people who had large buildings they never actually used called them 'residences'.

Her suspicions were strengthened as Alexia drove them smoothly up the long gravelled driveway leading to a building which could only be called a mansion. It fulfilled all of the criteria that Hyara associated with the word. There were ornamental pillars apparently supporting the overhanging roof which, in the late morning light, cast a shadow on the upper half of the red-brick wall. The sweeping gardens were a crisp green landscape, filled with aesthetically placed beds of local flora, and brightly coloured birds roaming loose between them. It almost seemed too perfect, the birds only walked between the beds, never over them, and the gently sloping driveway and the steps leading up from it looked completely clean of the sort of mess an area filled with animals should contain. Eventually she couldn't resist asking. "Alexia, are those birds specially trained?"

"Not that I'm aware Adept Quinta." That was another thing that seemed unusual, but was only now becoming clear. Alexia seemed like the perfect chauffer; polite, calm, and with seemingly no desire to voice her opinions; assuming she actually had any. The car glided smoothly to a halt, and Alexia opened the door for them just as Dareth put his and on the handle. There was hardly any distance to the stairs, just enough for the door to open fully without getting damaged.

Dareth ascended first, and knocked smartly on the door. Hyara almost smiled at how much effort Dareth was putting into his disguise. He was even knocking differently. Admittedly, a lot of the times she'd seen him knock on a door, it was just a warning for the people inside. The inevitable violence that followed rendering any impoliteness in their method of entry largely unnoticed.

This time of course, the knock was polite, but succinct, exactly what one would expect of a high ranking administratum adept. The grey haired, balding man who opened the door gave off an air of absolute... there was no other word for it... butleriness. His suit was smart, but plain, and his shoes, though not new, gleamed as shoes will when buffed rigorously every morning. The lines on his face were faint, as though he rarely smiled, which was quite likely the case.

He recognised them, apparently just by the fact that they were present and bowed; respectfully keeping his head low and stepping aside to allow them entry.

"Welcome, please be assured that while you are guests of his lordship, any needs you may have will be catered for."

The entrance hall managed to exceed the grandeur of the building's exterior, portraits of previous Counts and Countesses hung along the passageway, many pictured with swords of different kinds. Hyara noticed with amusement how several of those with weapons clearly didn't know how to use them. Their stances were wrong, and one man was holding the very end of his cutlass' handle.

The three guests followed the butler, who had not introduced himself, along the passageway, to the base of a flight of stairs. As they ascended, he spoke again.

"His lordship has had rooms prepared for your stay. The ladies will be staying in the two rooms at the western end of the upper corridor, and the gentleman will be in the first room on the left of the eastern end." He indicated the left corridor for Hyara and Marianna, and the right for Dareth. "Each room is fully equipped en-suite, and if at any time you should require anything not already available, an internal vox unit has been installed in each room."

He bowed to each of them in turn, and continued; "Dinner will be served at a half past six. If you do not require anything further, I will leave you to prepare."


	9. Source of Confusion

The rooms, as expected, seemed to be as unnecessarily expensive as the rest of the building. The cream coloured sheets on the double bed were as soft as any material Hyara had ever touched. The top layer seemed to be made from silk, but here at least some sense had been used. The other layers weren't quite so frictionless.

Hyara didn't spend too long enjoying the softness of her bed, but she decided that she deserved a few moments of just lying back and staring at the roof; it had been a long day.

She jerked her head towards the door as a loud knocking broke the silence. "Hyara," Dareth sounded annoyed for some reason. What it could be escaped her completely. "Hyara, come on. We're already ten minutes late."

She sat up, her confusion increasing. "Late for what?"

"You want to eat don't you? You don't usually take twenty minutes to get ready, never mind two hours."

Two hours? She slid to the edge of the bed, and looked around for a chronometer. Typically, there weren't any in view. It seemed like the whole galaxy was trying to stop her from finding out the time today. She rushed to the door and opened it; glancing down, she noticed that Dareth had already gotten changed.

Dareth's expression went from annoyance to frustration; "You're not going to eat dinner in that are you?" He indicated her travelling clothes, then sighed in resignation. "I suppose it doesn't matter this time, but you've got a lot to learn about this kind of thing if you're going to convince people you're an Adept. Etiquette is basically half of an envoy's job."

Hyara blushed, her face becoming as red as her complexion allowed. "Sorry. Have we got any time left at all?"

Dareth checked his personal chronometer, and Hyara made a mental note to get herself one as soon as possible. "Not unless you can travel backwards through time; come on." He stepped aside for her to leave her room. The way Dareth was acting, it seemed like she'd opened the window and shouted their plans at the top of her lungs. Falling asleep and not dressing for dinner wasn't going to break their cover.

She stopped on the stairs and Marianna almost walked into her; "What's wrong Hyara?"

'I wasn't even tired.' Hyara remembered. 'How did I fall asleep if I wasn't even tired?'

-

Lucius sat at his desk, frowning at the documents in front of him. There was nothing about them specifically that was annoying him. It was just an odd sensation that he wasn't in as much control as he had always thought. He knew his power extended over the whole sphere of the planet, and some distance into the surrounding space. He would have noticed if any of his subjects had broken his hold. Even those who weren't under a direct influence. He pushed the feeling aside, and turned his mind to more important matters.

-

Although Hyara had wanted to find out whether Count Angelus' chef was as good as the rest of his staff seemed to be, her waking thoughts were not concerned with the matter. In fact, her waking thoughts were 'Why am I waking up?'

It was only when she verbalised the thought that she noticed Marianna sitting by the bed. She pulled herself up into a sitting position as Marianna stood up, waving at the butler to leave.

"You stopped on the stairwell and just toppled over. We barely caught you. There's nothing physically wrong with you, but it's not physical trauma that we were worried about."

Before she could start asking questions, Hyara cut in. "Where's the butler going?"

"He's going to find Dareth. I convinced him that only one of us needed to stay here, so he's questioning the staff." Marianna gently pushed Hyara back down onto the bed.

"Just like him. For such a patient man, I've never known him to wait around for something trivial like this." She lay back and closed her eyes, relaxing her body, but keeping her mental guard up. Focussing her power for the first time in a while she finally realised what was so strange about this place, and Alexia, and the butler.

Before she could explain it however, Dareth hurried into the room, followed at a more sedate pace by the butler, who calmly closed the doors so roughly thrown open by Dareth's entrance. As her guardian almost ran over to the bed, Hyara sat up again, and smiled weakly at him. "I'm fine Dareth. A little tired I think, but other than that there's nothing specifically wrong with me." Relief flooded his face, and he sat down in the chair placed opposite Marianna's. The butler was standing just by the door, clearly waiting to see if his services were further required.

Making sure that he couldn't see her mouth, Hyara actively tried to contact his mind. 'Thank you, we will call if we require anything'

He didn't even blink. Only one thing happened, and Hyara was in no state to notice what it was.

Marianna gasped as Hyara's eyes glazed over and her body fell backwards; her head bouncing off the pillows and all signs of consciousness vanishing completely.

_It's a bit shorter than usual I know, but that just seemed a good place to pause. If anyone wants to take a guess awhat's happening feel free. _

_As always, your opinions are welcomed, especially if it helps me improve._

_Don't forget what it says in the summary though. Flame me, and I WILL Karamazov you!_


	10. Fear & Paranioa

_As suggested by xiao32615987,and demanded by Slayer of Daemons, I'm posting this next bit, well, now really. So, here we go._

Hyara's consciousness returned slowly. Her first active thought was a decision to suppress her power as much as possible. There was something affecting her mind, and she was fairly sure it had more effect when her power was active. Opening her eyes, she looked around. Unlike before, the only light was coming from an elaborate lamp standing in the dark, varnished bedside table. She sat up, and allowed her eyes to focus. It seemed like Dareth had decided to leave Marianna to watch over her, and it seemed like Marianna had fallen asleep.

She looked peaceful, and though not apparently very comfortable, more so than if she fallen asleep in the chair. It wasn't far away, but Marianna's position suggested prayer. Her legs were folded beneath her as they would be under a kneeling person; her left arm had fallen across her lap as the rest of her body leaned to the right, supported by the side of the bed.

Hyara reasoned that it would be pointless to wake her up. The only reason to wake Marianna would be to show her that Hyara herself had woken up, which would leave them both awake in what seemed to be the middle of the night. What was strange was that despite having spent about half the day in a state of unconsciousness, Hyara found that her body was rested, but mentally, she was utterly exhausted.

Relaxing herself, she lay back, and allowed herself to drift away. A decision she would wake to regret.

-

_Her mind is foggy, her vision blurred. There is something wrong. Something... This is not where she should be. Cold; why is it so cold? __Her hands are tied behind her; tied to a post. _

BURN THE WITCH!! PURGE THE HERETIC!

_Voices drawing nearer; chanting voices. _

BURN THE WITCH!! PURGE THE HERETIC!

_Indistinct figures appearing from the mist; their forms melting and changing; flames give points of focus like stars in the night sky. The cold merely intensifies at the idea of the heat the flames can give. _

BURN THE WITCH!! PURGE THE HERETIC!

_The words are familiar to her, but again the sense of wrongness denies all recollection. She tries to move, but her feet slip away, and her arms jerk painfully up. The wood at her feet tumbles away as she struggles to stand again. _

BURN THE WITCH!! PURGE THE HERETIC!

_The voices are close now, and the shapes seem to resolve. The hideous creatures now before her are more disgusting than anything she had ever imagined. The flaming torches are held aloft by appendages which defy logic; sprouted from torsos of such impossible and horrifying variation that she is utterly unable to comprehend their existence. Their substance can only be described as flesh, but they twist and flex in ways which, to her, seem biologically implausible. She knows that they have faces, but at the same time has no explanation for what they might be. The words are coming from them, but it resounds within her mind, reverberating off every thought, disrupting her sentience and violating her soul._

_The echoes of dying screams resolve from the cacophony of hatred. A sudden clarity floods though her, the screams have reached their crescendo, and through the unfading agony, she focuses on the truth of the scene before her._

_Her voice, unnaturally high and keening, joins the screams within her mind, somehow pushing them to even more terrifying levels as the daemons hurl their fire towards her pyre._

_The flames lick up around her, every colour she knows and more. The flames flicker between each other, and somehow they overlap themselves, all the while growing quickly towards her. The fire is not hot. She knows it should be, these flames do not heat her flesh; the wood beneath does not blacken and wither, it merely melts, in places it fuses together, in others it evaporates without even liquefying._

_She raises her eyes to the sky, but she sees nothing but an utterly black hexagram rotating against the roiling, painfully crimson clouds. She lowers her eyes again, feeling compelled to look on the mass of flesh that is what the crowd has become; each individual blending their fellows. Suddenly a small figure emerges from the shadows. It, unlike everything else, is covered by a small dark robe. Its head sports an unusual detailed helm which shines like a beacon of stability in the turmoil. Its winged shape filling her perspective until with a shockwave of utter silence, everything is drained away._

-

Hyara's eyes jerked open. She shut her mouth, cutting of her subconscious' scream. She threw the sheet off her and, ignoring the protests of Dareth and Marianna, ran for the door. The butler helpfully opened it for her, and stepped aside as she hurried through, desperate to get out of the building.

She took the stairs two at a time, jumping off the bottom four, stumbling as she tried to keep up her pace. She managed to keep her footing however, and pushed open the big heavy front door as fast as she could manage, setting off at a sprint down the gravelled path just as Dareth reached the front door. He caught up with her as she slipped forwards. Catching her arm, he spun her round to face him; "What's wrong!?"

"My feet hurt."

He looked down instinctively, before looking at her in puzzlement. "What?"

"I forgot about the gravel." Seeing that this wasn't helping, she continued; "My feet are bare Dareth. Bare feet on small stones generally leads to pain."

Her smile relaxed him and he let go of her arm. She started moving carefully towards the grassy area. Unable to leave it at that, he asked; "Immediate discomfort aside, why did you wake up screaming, then run outside?"

She reached the grass verge, and sat down, holding the plain robe, which she now realised was the only thing she was wearing, close. "I had a nightmare, and it helped me realise why I kept passing out."

He looked at her expectantly. He was happy that she was awake, but he had never liked ambiguous answers. "Which is?"

"Well, either this Count is a witch, or he's unnecessarily paranoid about daemons. That place is basically one big hexagram. It's not a normal power-drain symbol; it's more like the seals on a Navigator's chamber."

He sat down next to her; "What does it mean?"

"Apart from the fact that it knocks me out cold every time I use my power? I have no idea."

_I wanted the chanting to be in different sizes, but unfortunately that's not possible on this site. You'll just have to imagine the voices getting louder. A bit of muffling would be appropriate as well. That's how I imagined it, but I couldn't think of a way to represent it. If anyone has any idea about it, I'd love to hear them._

_By the way; if it's confusing you... Muahahahahahahahahah!!!_


	11. Conflict of Interests

_Sorry it's been a while faithful readers. If you're just finding it, I don't need to apologise to you, because you didn't know, so ignore this bit.._

_Yes it's been some time since my last update, and hopefully the next one will come faster, but I've been in a bit of a flump the last couple of weeks._

The apartment Hyara found herself in had nothing like the comfort of the Count's mansion, but was a small sacrifice to make to ensure that she remained conscious. As she stowed away her belongings, wondering idly whether it was a good thing she hadn't had time to unpack them properly before the first black-out, she allowed her power so sweep through the building, almost subconsciously checking for potential dangers and testing the mental strength of every person in the building. They were, of course, all unique, but there was a subtle similarity between them all. It was hard to place, but it seemed familiar.

She paused, trying to focus. The answer eluded her for a moment, until she remembered that Alexia's mind had felt the same, and though she'd never been able to check, she felt confident that all of Count Angelus' other servants were the same.

Did it mean that the Count himself was a witch? Or was there someone else pulling the strings? Hyara knew that psychic manipulation was not the only possible explanation for their mental state, but she was here on behalf of the Ordo Hereticus. If there was nothing more than an a bit of corruption within the government of a planet with an odd chemical imbalance in the atmosphere, there would be a real team of Adepts investigating. She knew she would need to tell Dareth and Marianna about her conclusions, but she also knew that it would be impossible to do so today; They were due to meet Angelus in an hour, and she was over half that away from the mansion. They would never be back in time, and a lack of punctuality could damage their cover. Her absence would not go unnoticed she knew, but Dareth had assured her he had a perfectly convincing excuse to explain it.

She hoped it was better than her ideas; all she'd been able to come up with was some rubbish about her having been affected badly by something on the grounds. Which while having the bonus of being technically true, was not going to convince anyone.

-

Dareth paced his room impatiently. Meeting the Count was going to be difficult without Hyara. It was her mission after all. To make matters worse, he was having trouble coming up with an alibi for her absence, despite assuring Hyara otherwise. The Count was due to arrive in less than an hour, and still, the best he had was that something had triggered a previously unnoticed allergy in her. He knew he'd never come up with anything better in the time he had, so he prayed silently to the Emperor that it was just plausible enough to convince the Count.

He didn't really want to think about what would happen if it wasn't. There were any number of things the Count might assume. It would take an extraordinarily paranoid, or worryingly intelligent man to assume that her absence meant she was a psyker powerful enough to be seriously inconvenienced by the aura of the hexagramme.

He and Marianna were enjoying the comfort of one of the Mansion's main rooms, overlooking the grounds and the driveway. Dareth considered the exact contents of the view from the largest window. He could see clearly down to the main gates; and knew that it had to be deliberate. Especially because the window seemed easily large enough to accommodate a turret. On impulse, he began to check around the sides of the window for a hidden panel or switch which might reveal anything similar to his theory.

Clearly the Count hadn't been thinking of physical defensibility when he designed the house. It seemed that he merely enjoyed the view of his own land, and even Dareth had to admit that he wouldn't mind looking at it for a while.

-

The dark chamber was silent this time. There was no-one kneeling on the floor barely controlling themselves, nor were there any chanting voices. Erus was alone. The silence and stillness was important for this. While not as amusing as tormenting a fool, the tactical decisions involved were far more challenging intellectually.

At times like this Erus was sure that, had the call of the Emperor been stronger than that of all mighty Tzeentch, the Imperium would have had another tactical mind to rival Lord Solar Macharius. As thing stood, the soul of the greatest tactician the galaxy had ever known was pledged eternally to the Lord of Change.

As enjoyable as hypothetical situations could be, Erus knew that no amount of speculation would change anything. Only actions could change the course of History. Only action would unite the System, then the sector, and eventually the entire Galaxy in the name of Tzeentch.

Reaching out psychically, the entire system seemed accessible, and indeed it was. Each mind was within potential reach, the chamber was designed not only to be disconcerting for everyone else, but to be an amplifier for the specific mental pattern created when Erus' power reached out. From here, almost everything that happened could be witnessed, and to some extent, controlled. There were factions warring on most of the worlds. It was a secret war, and the PDF regiments were involved on all sides, along with the Arbites enforcers, and the civilian masses. Getting the rabble to rise up and fight was no great feat of will; they were always annoyed about something; which is why Erus' mind focussed on the trained soldiers and law enforcement officers, smiling at the irony. The state of Oren Tertius triggered another smile, the conflict there was minimal. In fact, compared to the rest of the system, it wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that it was negligible. Perfect; everything was going according to plan.

-

He was late, and he knew it. This was not going to give a good impression, but there was nothing he could do about that. There are some things that just have to be taken care of; certain parts of his life were scheduled for specific reasons. Glancing at the back of Alexia's head, Angelus smiled evilly as he remembered those activities which were not scheduled.

He had little time to reminisce, however, hearing the crunch of gravel under the tyres, he looked up at his guest house, spotting a pair of figures through the large windows of the greeting room. He fancied that he saw one look down at his car, and watched as they stood up, readying themselves for his arrival. He knew that he could have invented some excuse for his tardiness, but was confident that explaining that some non-specific 'pressing matters' required his attention would deflect their attention well enough.

As Alexia drew the car smoothly to a halt, he waited for her to open the door. He may have been late already, but there was no need to rush. It wasn't as though these Adepts were going to be leaving any time soon anyway. Besides which, it gave him a little pleasure to irritate them, as long as there were no repercussions of course.

He kept his dignity as he exited his car, and maintained his poise as he casually ascended the stairs to the room. They were guests in his house, which meant that etiquette demanded that before any business matters were discussed, they would thank him for his kindness, which could not, with manners, be followed by questioning his late arrival. Realising this, he grinned. He didn't need an excuse anyway, not this time. Manipulation was fun.

-

Marianna turned to face the door as it swung open. She dipped into a curtsey, knowing without looking that Dareth was also swallowing his irritation and bowing to the planetary ruler. She stood straight, noticing with annoyance that the only sign of respect the man made was a slight nod of his head. Clearly, he'd spent too much time out of the company of his equals to pay much attention to the pleasantries. Hiding an evil smile, she too broke protocol; "Good afternoon Count Angelus, I must admit to feeling a little foolish. It would seem that when we arranged this meeting, I misheard the time."

She relished his expression, and the knowledge that Dareth's would either be the same or, more likely, carefully blank. There were few enough pleasures to be had as a Sister of the Orders Hospitaller, but situations like this could be immensely enjoyable if you knew how to almost break the rules.

_Anyone figured out what's going on on the planet?_


	12. Etiquette & Rumour

_It's been over a month I know, and I'll do my best to get the next one up sooner, but here it is._

Count Angelus was taken aback. Administratum Adepts were not supposed to talk like that, or at least, in his preconceptions they didn't. Perhaps he should have investigated these people significantly more before they arrived. However, he did know that what research he had done indicated that they were missing one adept.

That gave him a reply. "It is I who must apologise Miss Tiyalis, you were not mistaken, I am afraid I was held up unexpectedly, and this same delay prevented me from contacting you. It seems that a group of workers, mostly youths I believe, attacked and destroyed several Vox-towers." Now that his excuse was decided on, he focused his will, the hexagram around the building amplifying his power, and arranged the world such that it was true. "I have spent the morning organising the repairs and liaising with the Arbiter about their capture."

He looked at the two of them as if suddenly struck by a thought. "I fear I must apologise again. I was under the impression there were to be three Adepts visiting?"

Dareth stepped forward and caught the Count's attention before Marianna could say anything. "You were not misinformed. The younger of my associates was taken ill; an allergic reaction apparently. She will join us when the correct treatment is administered."

Angelus looked somewhat curious, but didn't question the explanation; "There are a number of exotic flora in the grounds. Regretfully, this is not the first time a guest has become uncomfortable while staying in my house. I will apologise in person when she recovers."

"That is very kind of you Count Angelus, I am confident she will be well enough to join us within a few days."

The niceties were starting to grate on Angelus' nerves. He realised that having absolute control over his subjects meant that he was out of practice with his political skills. He decided to act like the busy ruler his story suggested he was.

"All is well then. Now, I'm afraid my information is somewhat lacking. I was not told the exact nature of your enquiries here. Would you care to enlighten me?"

Hyara stepped out into the street, noting absently the ruddy tint in the light of the system's ancient star. Knowing full well, she wouldn't be able to go near the mansion until she figured out a way to protect herself from the power of the seal surrounding it, the only thing she could do to help would be to interview some of the people involved at different levels of the planet's production system; she deliberately avoided using the word interrogate, even in her own mind, that wasn't how Adepts worked. The most likely cause of the problem was in the higher echelons, but the obvious solution wasn't always right, and thinking that it was could cause her to miss out on clues pointing towards the real reason. With this in mind, she decided to begin questioning the workers on the factory floor.

The first problem with this approach, however, was finding the factory. She'd been brought directly to this residential area by Alexia, and hadn't seen anything that looked like a factory even from the shuttle.

Setting off randomly in search of one didn't suit someone of Hyara's intelligence, so she tried to look at the problem logically. Doubtless the count would want all of the workplaces as far away from himself as possible, so heading away from his mansions would be a sensible choice, though it meant heading out of the city, and potentially out of contact with Dareth.

Although it went against her preferences, loosing contact with her companions was unavoidable. She realised that, in fact she had already lost contact. By now they would be talking to Angelus, and interrupting that meeting would both breach etiquette, about which Dareth would berate her; and potentially blow whatever cover Dareth had invented to explain away her absence.

A group of teenagers ran past her, almost colliding with each other as they moved to avoid her. As part of her wondered why they were in such a hurry, and another part cursed herself for not checking the wall chronometer when she left, she spotted a group of men enter a building a few doors down the street. They were all dressed in an unassuming, dark grey uniform, so she guessed them to be factory workers.

Swift inspection revealed the building to be a tavern or bar of some kind. Ignoring the memory of her last bar-side encounter, she approached confidently. A cursory glance told her it was a worker's tavern, all the clientele were dressed the same, and a psychic sweep confirmed her initial suspicion that the men and women who frequented the place did so on their way home, as a sort of atmospheric midpoint. They were with the same people, but they could talk easily, and enjoy the company of their colleagues in a setting more like the comfort of their homes.

Smiling a little at the simplicity of their lives, and how pleasant it must be not to have to think about the dangers of the galaxy, she entered. Only a few people looked up immediately, but, as she'd expected, those few nudged their companions, who looked up in turn. Gradually, a hush fell across the room. She smiled and nodded to a few people, and strode confidently up to the bar. The workers likely assumed she was a merchant's daughter coming down to see how the lower class lived, and almost as one, turned back to their friends and their drinks, resuming their conversations with ease.

There were however a few who's gaze discreetly followed her to the bar. Gently, she probed their thoughts, and almost laughed at what she found.

Not one of them was leering at her, they were all waiting to see if the stories they'd heard were true. Stories about merchant's children coming to worker's taverns and trying to win them over with a round of drinks.

She began to wonder where such stories began; was there actually a merchant who bought a whole tavern a round of drinks just to try and win some support? Or was it total fantasy, created by people who had never met anyone from the merchant class, but always enjoyed a free drink?

Either way, it had little bearing on Hyara's next actions. They were motivated purely by socio-scientific curiosity. She had never had the chance to talk to the people of the Imperium. In her youth she had been too shy, and through her training, she had had very little free time. Now that she was a full-fledged inquisitor however, she could do things her way.

In a loud, clear voice; she placed her order; "Barman; What's your most popular drink?"

"Well, miss. My customers usually order a pint of ale, miss. I'm sure I've got something more suited…"

He hadn't stopped talking, but Hyara had stopped listening. Something told her that in the stories; the merchant's daughter, or whoever it was, had joined the workers in their own favourite beverage, so she might as well live up to the idea, and keep the stories going. Reinforce the stereotype perhaps.

When she interrupted the barman, he was half way through a list of drinks he thought she might prefer. Presumably drinks he knew how to make, but which had never been ordered.

"In that case bar… what was your name, sorry? Right; in that case Bob; a round of Ales for myself and anyone else who wishes to partake."

She grinned at the sound of around two dozen glasses being drained in a hurry.

_What else could I call him huh? Be honest, you'd have done the same in my position._


	13. The Hunt Is On

_For those of you who want to hear about my inquisitor, here's the next chapter, it's not the longest ever, and I know it's been a while since I updated, but I've been trying (and failing) to revise. Anyway, here it is._

Taking a sip of the ale placed in front of her, Hyara found the flavour initially unpleasant, but oddly tolerable at the same time. She watched in amusement as the barman struggled to keep up with the number of people who had taken up her offer. As expected, everyone in the place had chosen to accept their part of the free round.

Hyara expected that Dareth wouldn't be too happy about her use of their credits, but he seemed to take everything very seriously, and he was clearly taking a while to realise that she wasn't Lord Silver's apprentice any more. She had her own ways of doing things, though she had a sneaking suspicion that Draco would have approved of her methods here. It seemed like the kind of thing he'd find amusing.

Gradually, the press of bodies at the bar lessened, and Hyara went to sit with a few of the workers, specifically not the ones who'd expected her to buy the drinks. She took no little pleasure in the thought that she'd provided them proof for their faith in rumour. She couldn't help thinking it might be useful to see how easily the populace was affected by rumours.

"Good afternoon gentlemen." They nodded greeting and mumbled their responses, clearly uncomfortable talking to her.

Knowing that she was interrupting their conversation, Hyara decided to keep it brief and formal. Partly to fit what most Imperial citizens presumed an Adept to be like, but mostly because the chummy approach would likely make them think she was a bit of a fool. "My name is Hyara Quinta, I am an Adept of the Administratum, and I along with my colleagues are investigating the inaccuracies in this planet's product output. If you know anything, or know of anyone who might, please inform me."

The men around her looked unaffected by her announcement. One, his features grizzled by age, spoke up. "I don't see what you expect us to know miss." His manner was polite, but the offence taken at her suggestion was clear. "We work on the floor. The parts come in from some other factory, we put them together, and send them off to be shipped out. You want more detail than that, you'll have to talk to the foreman."

"I apologise." This surprised them, in their minds, Adepts were all about getting to the solution as quickly as possible; not paying attention to what happened to normal people along the way. "I didn't mean to imply that you had any connection to the missing weapon shipments. I was hoping you might have heard some rumours."

The grey haired man who had first spoken seemed to have elected himself as the little groups spokesman, which the other men didn't seem to mind at all. "Not much I can say about that myself, miss. I never pay much attention to rumour myself. Never does anyone any good."

Hyara couldn't resist carrying on the topic; "What if it was only a rumour that no rumours are true?"

The man smiled, not phased by her question in the slightest. "I never said I didn't believe them, miss. I just said I never listened. I'm a simple man, and rumours make life complicated." Hyara smiled back at him, if he'd been rich, he could have been an excellent politician, well, if he'd been rich and dishonest, anyway.

"Thank you for your time, enjoy your drinks. Hopefully, this matter will be solved quickly." Hyara rose, and bowed her head respectfully. As she turned away, a thought struck her, and she turned back, a slightly embarrassed smile on her lips, "Sorry, two quick questions." She addressed the senior worker directly, as he was the only one who seemed to have any interest in her.

"Of course, I'll do what I can to help, but as I said. You'll have to talk to the foreman if you want any real answers."

"That's one of the questions; Where can I find the foreman?" She memorised his directions to the factory, and smiled. She'd been right about the general direction.

"Thank you, now, this is the last question, What's your name? You've been a great help."

He looked pleased at her words, and smiled; "My name's Ralek, miss. Ralek Varn."

Nodding her thanks, she turned to leave; her drink barely touched. Outside, she breathed deeply, realising how dense the atmosphere in the bar had been, The air in the city wasn't the cleanest she'd ever breathed, but it was much better than some.

"Hyara!" Dareth's voice surprised her. She hadn't realised how long it had taken her to sort out her belongings earlier. She turned to look back up the path, and saw her companions standing outside the front door to her temporary accommodation.

"Dareth, Marianna? I thought you'd still be talking to the Count." She approached them quickly, eager to learn of anything they'd found.

"It didn't last long," Marianna informed her, "We learned a few things, but less than we hoped."

Hyara, unlocking the door, gestured them to follow and once inside, began to press them for details. "You said you'd learned something."

Dareth left relaying the facts to Marianna, contenting himself with searching the rooms. "Either Count Angelus has no idea what's happening, or he's an excellent liar."

"Or he's a witch." Hyara didn't like to think that Angelus might be powerful enough to cloud both Marianna and Dareth's perceptions at the same time, but she highly doubted that the hexagram around his home meant nothing.

"There is that possibility." Marianna nodded in agreement. "However, in this case I don't think he influenced us. I can remember everything as clearly as I normally would. Including his late arrival, and the excuse he came up with to explain it."

"As amusing as it is that he was late for an investigation. I think it's more important that we deal with the matter of our investigation."

"Which investigation?" Dareth asked, as he sat down, having found nothing out of place.

"Both." Hyara was taking control of the mission properly, and Dareth was impressed. "So, walk me through everything he told you, and We can go and find the Overseers at the factory."

Dareth nodded slowly. "I assume you're starting from the bottom rung, and working up. You're not just assuming the workers themselves aren't involved are you?"

Hyara smiled sarcastically at her friend, "Dareth, what do you think I was doing in that tavern? I've already removed the workers from the list."

Dareth was impressed with her initiative, but concerned that she'd acted without him. Now she was smiling again, the worrying smile that had occasionally played across Draco's face. "Hyara, please stay out of my head."

_Next chapter should be up within less time, but it depends on how much work I do on my other stories. And whether or not I spend much time revising. [laughs manaicaly at the notion_


	14. Rivalry Abounds

_It's been a while since I updated anything, and longer since I updated this, but I have a good reason. I was working on something that could potentially make me money._

_If that's not a good enough reason to warrant a break from these stories I don't know what is. If it's any consolation, due to a minor change in the manner of writing, this chapter is a bit longer than previous ones._

That night there had been little point, or indeed time, to find the overseers. So the three 'Adepts' headed to the factory around midmorning; at a time when it would be reasonable to assume that all necessary checks and safety procedures had been completed and the day's work had begun to proceed smoothly.

"Hyara," Dareth finally realised what it was that had seemed odd about last night. "How can you be so sure that the workers have nothing to do with this? How many did you question?"

"One." Her answer was confidently spoken, though she already knew the logical retort which would follow.

"You only questioned one?" He stared in no small amount of disbelief. Turning to Marianna for support, he continued; "How can one interrogation remove a group so large from the investigation?"

As Marianna shrugged, assuming Hyara had her reasons; the Inquisitor confirmed her thoughts, albeit in the process of taking a dig at her temporary bodyguard.

"Firstly Dareth, I don't think calling it an _interrogation_ fits our disguise very well do you? It was more of an interview." He looked ready to protest, but she continued quickly. "Secondly, yes, I only questioned one worker; but even that was just for show really. I could have removed the whole group from the equation without asking a single question."

His look of mildly curious disbelief was exactly what she'd expected. She tapped her right temple with a wink. "I only _questioned_ one; I probed everyone in the tavern."

Dareth rubbed his temples. He hated it when Draco did that, and now his protégé was doing it too. Why did they both have to act so _normal_ most of the time? He was constantly forgetting about their other abilities. If he didn't trust them so much, he might think they made him forget, just to watch his irritation. However, following that line of thought would get him nowhere, except possibly into some serious trouble. The kind of trouble where you're afraid to turn a corner because you're worried there's an Officio Assassinorum operative on the other side. It was unlikely either would go so far, but you never really knew with Inquisitors.

Raising his hands in surrender, he conceded the point. "Okay Hyara, we'll leave the workers out of it." He bit back the 'for now' that was desperate to join the rest of his sentence, and hoped fervently that she wouldn't pick up on it. Either she didn't, or she was hiding it well.

Marianna spoke up to forestall the looming threat of an awkward silence. "How are we going to deal with the Techpriests when we find them?"

Hyara looked at her in surprise, "Techpriests?" Odd as it seemed, the fact that she hadn't considered that the overseers might be Techpriests disturbed her more than anything on this mission so far. Even more than the hexagrammes around Angelus' mansion.

"Well, yes." Marianna looked shocked that Hyara hadn't realised. "Factory Overseers tend to be Techpriests. In fact, I highly doubt there's an STC in use that isn't maintained by Techpriests. They tend to get a bit irritated by anyone else getting involved."

Dareth couldn't help smirking, mostly at the huge understatement, but partly, he admitted privately, it was amusing to watch Hyara's discomfort at being unaware of something so blatant. "Whoever they are, it's our duty to interview them." He placed only the slightest stress on the word, paraphrasing Hyara's earlier comment.

They approached the factory soon after this; discussing exactly who was going to do the questioning and, more importantly, what the questions were going to be.

Having reached the door, Dareth activated the internal vox system to contact the overseers. His official Administratum access code guaranteed their entry. They could have used a false code, but that could have caused problems later on if they needed to talk to the facility's administratum representatives. An eventuality Dareth thought quite likely; considering the disdain the Adeptus Mechanicus tended to show for anything without a machine spirit, including power and monetary gain.

It took some minutes to reach the Chapel of the Omnissiah, and several more before they managed to get anyone to open the door. They had a momentary glance of the archeotech within and the cloud of incense roiling around it as the magos quickly opened and shut the door, leaving only enough of a gap to fit himself through.

Unsurprisingly, he wasn't very happy to see them; what was surprising was that there was enough face left behind all the augmetics to be able to tell.

"Magos Triek, I…" Dareth began before he was cut off abruptly; Triek showing the lack of social grace abundant in many servants of the Omnissiah. His mechanical voice was a tiny moment out of sync with the movements of his face. The pause was barely perceptible, but just long enough to become quickly irritating.

"Look, I'm sure you mean well, but I've little enough patience for the quill-pushers I already know. Just ask me what you came to ask. Some of the rituals need all of us to be completed successfully."

His tone, though not technically there, was implied sufficiently well in the abruptness of his speech. Apparently they had chosen a less suitable time than they had initially thought.

It was clear that their presence was regarded as little more than an unfortunate necessity. Even Dareth decided to abandon protocol in the interests of ensuring as much cooperation as possible.

"Very well, we're here to determine the cause of inconsistencies between the amounts of material delivered to this world, and the quantity of supplies received. Are you aware of any such problems?"

The techpriest shrugged and raised one of his eyebrows; both gestures shockingly organic for someone so devoted to the machine god. It seemed that he'd specifically avoided having certain replacements in order to retain his ability to look sceptically indifferent. Apparently it was an expression he required often, or perhaps it was just one he enjoyed particularly.

"I barely have time in the day to ensure that all the appropriate rituals are performed to honour the machine spirits of all the different parts of the factory; and that's on a day when I don't get interrupted by some ink-fingered flesh bags complaining about a point nought two per cent drop in efficiency over the last three months. So excuse me if I don't waste my time pondering the matter. I don't take care of what comes in or goes out; I just deal with it while it's here."

Triek's harsh speech pattern, the slight delay in his voice, and now the outright abuse were all adding up to really rile Hyara. As tempting as it currently was to end the charade and scare the bolts out of the obnoxious cogboy, as far as he was concerned, they were just adepts. The friction between the Administratum and the Mechanicus was well known to most Imperial citizens, so she had no reason to reveal her true vocation to him.

She was unable to keep entirely silent however. "A simple 'no' would have sufficed. I thought you were in a hurry."

"I am. Was that everything?"

"Other than to point out that it was considerably more than point nought two per cent, yes." Dareth answered in a last attempt to get any information at all. He succeeded in piquing Triek's curiosity at least.

"How much more? A whole per cent, two?" He still seemed sceptical.

"A total of six point three four per cent decrease in visible production over the past two standard years." Dareth quoted with an effortless which both impressed Hyara and made her realise how half heartedly she'd taken this whole cover so far. "Almost fifty shipments have gone missing from Oren Tertius in the last three standard months."

"Well, I'll admit that it's more than the usual complaints, but I still don't know anything, and neither will any of the Omnissiah's servants on this world."

"Well, thank you for your time, and the chance to discount you from our investigations. We'll make sure that our associates know that this was the cause of any small drop in this facility's production today."

This little gesture seemed to cheer Triek even more than the knowledge that they were leaving. As small as it was, the idea of a full day guaranteed Administratum free was a great relief to the stressed Magos. Hyara didn't know how obvious this was to her companions, but she could feel the bubble of grateful happiness in the techpriest's mind, and it affected her. All the irritation he'd caused ebbed away as she realised he was just annoyed from having his work interrupted, almost daily, by beaurocratic idiots whose qualms would only ever be noticed by other idiots as obsessive as they were.


	15. Breaking Point

_Sorry sorry sorry. It's been a long time and I know it, Hopefully it's some consolation that at least now the story is actually going to pick up and move along. Rather than slogging through the descriptions of each and every interview, I'm using one of the greatest narrative techniques ever invented. The time-jump. the characters go through it, but you don't have to. Huzzah!_

_Insert gerenic disclaimer;_

_Enjoy._

Nothing. So far, that's exactly what all her enquiries had turned up. Nothing. After over three months on the planet; asking everyone she could think of every question she could come up with without resorting to more 'Inquisitorial' techniques. Except one.

Angelus. Dareth had _suggested_ that they continue to work below the Count's level of awareness until all other potential suspects had been investigated. The tone of voice he'd used implied that, even though she was technically in charge, she should keep quiet and listen to him. Which she had done, deferring to his greater experience in these matters; he had, after all, been serving Draco when her mentor had found her.

In spite of how sensible she knew it was to follow Dareth's advice, she couldn't help but get frustrated at the utter lack of anything concrete. Before arriving, she had known that the official production figures didn't tally, and that some of the delivery crews from this sector, and this planet in particular, had seemed confused. Now, after a hundred days on this planet, 60 of which had been spent in interviews with every merchant, every factory' Adepts and Overseers, and all the nobles houses they could get access to. The other 40 days had been wasted trying to organise said interviews.

That and doing the paperwork which accumulated from them. Dataslate after Dataslate had to be completed and filed, completed and filed. She felt as though she really did work for the Administratum.

She barely heard the door swish open, it had happened a lot recently, more dataslates were always being brought in.

"Hyara!" Her head jerked up, and there was a cacophony of sounds as the objects in the room dropped back to the floor. Her glass landed on the edge of her desk and remained almost steady for a moment before toppling towards the floor. Regaining control over her powers. Hyara caught the glass before it completed its path; but without being able to see the water, she couldn't catch it properly and most of it splashed down into the shallow carpet.

At seeing the empty glass and the size of the stack of dataslates Marianna was holding, Hyara snapped. The frustration over their inactivity compounded by the Administratum grunt-work was sparked off by the usually insignificant spilling of her drink. The glass hurtled through the air, to shatter against the wall behind Marianna. The stack of slates in Marianna's hands were tugged out of her grip and scattered across the room.

"That's it! I can't flaying stand it any longer. Why are we just sitting here going through nothing when the reason is so obvious an Astropath could see it?"

Hyara stood up, knocking back her chair; she strode away from her desk in the small office room of her rented living quarters and walked briskly into the bedroom. Marianna followed her in just in time to see the young Inquisitor throw open the trunk at the foot of the bed and telekinetically raise most of the contents out of it. Immediately a plain black case floated out of the floating pile of her belongings and once it was in her hands, the remaining items dropped back into the trunk.

Activating the psychic lock she'd placed on the case, she pulled it open carefully and withdrew her weapons. The intricate workings on both the sword and pistol caught the light from the window and shimmered, almost as though the weapons were celebrating their release. It was a ridiculous idea, as beautiful as they may have been, the weapons were far from sentient, but Marianna couldn't help thinking it.

"Lady Quinta, please. Acting rashly will not help anything. If we move against the Count now and he isn't actually behind it, such an obvious situation will undoubtedly drive our real target deeper into hiding."

"Why did you assume I was going to do something to draw attention?" Hyara's voice had become cold, she slowly rose to her feet and attached the weapon belt around her waist, where it contrasted oddly with her casual attire. "All I'm going to do is tell him the truth, or part of it at least. When he knows who I really am, he'll either panic and try to run, which means he was guilty of something which would warrant Inquisitorial attention, which signs his death warrant, or he helps me find whoever's behind this. Which signs their death warrant."

Marianna was startled, she had never heard Hyara talk like this. In every conversation they'd had, the young Inquisitor had been likeable, charming and almost childishly playful. This was a side she'd never seen but had known deep down was inside her somewhere. No-one could have risen to the level of Inquisitor without seeing and doing some horrific things. Marianna had seen some of the bodies of the heretics that Lord Silver's staff had interrogated, until now, the tortured, broken forms had been impossible to connect to the young woman who walked into the interrogation chamber.

Hyara turned and walked to the door, the aura of power which now surrounded her scared the Hospitaller as much as anything else she'd seen. She found herself stepping well out of the way as Hyara made to leave the building.

* * *

What could it mean? When he recalled the last group of psychic tremors, Lucius knew beyond doubt that the source was the same. Which was only a minor reassurance. There was only one unknown psychic presence out there. He tried repeating it to himself. Trying to remain calm and assess the situation rationally.

It didn't help. There may only have been one, but the disturbances it was causing in the psychic veil over his planet seemed to be getting stronger. The first few, several months ago had, though oddly distinct, been vague, untraceable and had done little more than induce a mild head ache. Thus he'd dismissed it. He now regretted that decision.

The first thing he'd noticed was an unusual build up of psychic pressure. At first he'd assumed it was another head-ache, but when it disappeared, he revised his diagnosis. Especially when it was replaced by a series of vicious throbs that had him clutching at his temples in pain. These bursts were strong and focused and left behind a strong residual ache. The residual pain was localised enough that he could estimate an approximate position for the source.

He'd done what any sensible man would have done. What any sensible man with direct control over anyone he wished would have done anyway; He'd dispatched two units of Arbites Enforcers to find the psyker, and kill them.

He'd had to outfit them with psy-tracker auspexes. Both of his own personal units. If he had more, he would have dispatched more Arbites, but they were rare and expensive pieces of techno-sorcery from the Dark age of Technology. He was extremely lucky to have the two he had. Of course, all the luck was in having found a Rogue trader with two such items. The rest was in the psychic influence. It was a useful tool, and had allowed him to accumulate immense wealth, which continued to increase at a pace which should be impossible considering his lifestyle.

He did his best to ignore the problem. He had dealt with it to the best of his ability with what he knew; he was certain that two full squads of Arbites could easily deal with it, it was probably just a mutant child, it would explain the excessive power; children were very susceptible to their emotions.

_I'll try very hard to update sooner this time, It shouldn't be too hard. It is now interesting again, rather than the dullness I was heading towards. Which was going to be dull for me and you. Trust me._


	16. Confrontation & Condemnation

_Here it is, the beginning of the action I proised what seems like so long ago._

The wide thoroughfare was devoid of life. It wasn't just empty, it held no signs that people ever used it. The walls of the buildings on either side were immaculate, the waste receptacles contained so little that at a casual glance they seemed empty. The rockcrete under foot was smooth and clean. In a temperate climate such as this, there should at least be some minute imperfections caused by the rainfall, but this entire street looked as though it was cleaned obsessively on a daily basis.

Hyara's nagging sense that it was all too perfect returned. It was just to implausible that not a single citizen had decided to go out. The night was clear, the stars shone in the sky. As long as one didn't think about all the horrific things happening out there somewhere, it was quite a beautiful night. Hyara still managed to appreciate the beauty of a starlit sky. It was an anchor to herself that she'd picked up from Draco. Even in the midst of an investigation, he occasionally made time to look up at the night sky, and just enjoy the sight. She found it helped her to forget about the Seal and everything it represented, it helped put things into perspective. It seemed clichéd, but it was also probably true that, somewhere in the Imperium, there was someone who had bigger problems than she did at any given moment.

This particular night however, her problem wasn't causing Hyara any stress at all. She had a solution, and whatever the outcome of the confrontation, she would be at least one step closer to the conclusion of her mission.

In order to find the Count however, she first needed to find his mansion. She expanded her awareness, questing for any conscious minds. Any people who were awake might be able to point her in the right direction and if there were none, she could use her powers more actively.

She found a cluster of sentiences not far away. They had a very focused feeling to them, but that was not unexpected. The sensation was hardly different to any of the other minds she had so far encountered on this world, though perhaps a little more concentrated. There were two others much closer that she recognized instantly, and was already turning when Dareth called out to her.

"Hyara wait!"

"What Dareth? Do you think I'm going to do something stupid too?"

He slowed to a halt when he judged himself close enough to speak normally; "Not stupid, just reckless. And when you do, I don't want to tell Draco I was somewhere else, doing paperwork."

"It is boring isn't it?" she asked, a grin beginning to form.

He smiled back; "Compared to your plan, definitely. This Angelus is either innocent, or unbelievably careful about evidence. Either way, if I'd agreed to this in the first place, it might have saved us a lot of time."

As he spoke, Hyara felt the other group approach; close enough for her to discern more about their intentions. "Cover. Now!"

She looked around desperately, trying to find somewhere defensible. The only option seemed to be the walls of the alleyways.

Dareth, professional as always, had gotten himself and Hyara to an alley opposite Hyara's. It would have been fine if they'd had anything bigger than bolt pistols, the crossfire could easily be devastating for a pair of Heavy Stubbers, even Bolters would be effective. Two Bolt Pistols would have barely any effect after the initial shots were fired. Hyara caught Dareth's attention and signalled to him the number of targets. Ten enemy, all of whom should be assumed armed.

Her assumption was proved correct when the Arbites squad came within visible range. They were still far out of effective range for pistols, but she could just about see them clearly enough to recognize that one was signalling in her direction. Not just down her side of the street, but directly at her. Immediately she pulled her head back from the opening, and edged further down the alley, waiting for the inevitable barrage of fire. It was easy for her to close her eyes and sense their approach. It definitely looked like their single minded approach to their task was going to work in her favour. All ten of them were focused on her position, leaving Dareth and Marianna completely free to attack them from behind. Hyara remembered with a shock that Dareth hadn't been wearing his full battle equipment; he'd barely stopped to grab his weapon belt before running out here after her. That would make him more cautious, his normal armour would have no trouble protecting him from the Arbites Autoguns and shotguns, at least at range, unless they all focused their fire on him. Even then, it wouldn't last long, because with even a moment of respite, Hyara would be able to wreak havoc in their ranks.

Without his armour, Hyara wasn't sure what his plan would be.

-

Progress at last. After less than an hour, one of the search teams had already found this loose psyker, who apparently was fairly potent, and now the other was moving to the same position. It shouldn't be long before they reported success. Even a competent psyker would have serious difficulty dealing with twenty of these soldiers.

'Either way,' he thought, 'I'm sure I have enough time to celebrate. The rogue witch is being dealt with, and the Adepts are so buried in their precious filing that they won't be bothering me for at least another month.'

Knowing that she would hear him, wherever she was in the house, he said; "Fiona, Come to my office."

Shrapnel shattered off the rockcrete walls. It was unsurprising, considering their mental state, that the troopers had chosen to take the most direct route to her. It would have made more sense to anyone else to have simply thrown a grenade into the alley, and used that distraction to fire as many rounds as possible into what was left. Clearly they weren't dealing with any well trained soldiers here, trying to blast through a building to reach your target was almost on par with charging directly towards a heavy weapons battery in a bunker.

-

Hyara was relieved to hear the distinctive grunt of a bolt pistol cutting through the autoguns' rattling fire, which grew quieter as Dareth continued to fire. Subconsciously, Hyara counted the detonations. Dareth still had 7 shots left in his clip when he simply stopped firing. The autoguns were still pounding away at the wall, only pausing when the unit needed to reload, which they did with an eerie unity. Their servitor-like dedication to their objective far exceeded that of any imperial guardsman, or even an astartes. They, at least, had the sense to fight off an attack.

They were clearly under some kind of psychic manipulation, it was the only explanation. Even combat drugs couldn't do this to them. Only Slaught had a similar effect, but anyone under its influence became a raging berserker, not a mindless automaton.

-

They just stood there, even with the blood of their comrades splashed across their uniforms, they just stood and fired at the wall. Dareth was curious as to what they might do if he pushed them, but decided it was better not to risk it. Simply killing all of them would be the swiftest method, but they clearly weren't in control, though it was unlikely that they were possessed. So rather than use up any ore of his own ammunition, he grabbed the nearest soldier's autogun and, in the seconds its previous owner wasted looking surprised, he swung the heavy butt of the weapon and brought it down hard on the man's head. After almost a lifetime of practice, Dareth was perfectly capable of striking a blow which immediately rendered the target unconscious, but minimized the chance of lasting effects.

Even engaging them at close quarters wasn't enough to break their concentration, so it didn't take long before they were all out cold and disarmed. "That was quite possibly the strangest fight I've ever been involved in."

Hyara walked calmly out form the alleyway and looked at the Arbites officers littering the floor. Only half of them had any kind of injuries, and even those didn't seem to be life threatening, or at least wouldn't be once Marianna had finished patching them up.

"Possibly the first one where no-one died as well." She commented. "I mean since you joined the inquisition." She added when she saw the way he was looking at her. "But unless you want to repeat it, we should get moving," She closed her eyes, the easier to focus her telepathic search. "Because in about four minutes, another squad is going to get here."

"Which direction?"

Hyara opened her eyes and looked at him, hoping to convey in her expression the comment she knew she didn't have time to make. To save time, she answered both meanings of the question; "They're coming from the south, so north seems the logical direction to go. I'm fairly sure this first group had a way of tracking Psionic activity, so we should assume the second group does as well and that hiding from them won't work."

Dareth nodded, "That seems logical. The question now is where they got the equipment. The Count's main palace is north of here, so at least we're not going out of our way. Their access to such rare equipment, and Arbites uniforms doesn't really bode well for his lordship."

Hyara set off up the road. "Dareth, speculate later! We have to move."

_More to come. I could've continued it right here, but I decided to get this bit up ASAP. Besides, you don't want to read about them just running around do you? Better to skip on to the next fun bit. Sooner. Definitely sooner._


End file.
